


i was the only one who was looking at you

by astralpenguin



Series: lead me to a future [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Maze, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Birthday, Boku dake ga inai machi AU, Bokumachi au, Bullying, But it does get better I promise, Camping, Childhood Friends, Cliffhangers, Coma, Cute Kids, Erased AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Everybody Lives Eventually, Extremely Slow Burn, Fire, Fireworks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kidnapping, M/M, Minho is a Terrible Matchmaker, Murder, Mystery, Newt (Maze Runner) Has a Crush, Newt Would Follow Thomas Anywhere, Newt is Smart, No Knowledge of Erased Needed, Secrets, Serial Killer, Short Chapters, Sleepovers, Slow Burn, Snowball Fight, Surprise Party, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, There's A Tag For That, Time Travel, Water, but you should totally watch/read it bc it's really good, i should've added that tag ages ago, i should've added that tag sooner, i've been yelled at a lot for the cliffhangers, involuntary time travel, newt is a good friend, possibly unfortunately i really do mean everybody, pretty sure this qualifies as the slowest burn ever, slothburn, tags to be added as i think of them, that's a thing now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 100
Words: 137,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralpenguin/pseuds/astralpenguin
Summary: at your past and future,at your sadness and happiness,everythingWhen Thomas was in his last year of primary school, a serial killer targeted some of his classmates. A suspect was arrested and convicted, but Thomas remains convinced that the police have the wrong personWhen tragedy strikes again, he barely has time to process what's happened before he's somehow transported back in time to before those murders took placeHe knows what he needs to doHe can save everyoneOrThe Erased au that nobody asked for but I'm writing anyway





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have exams soon so this is a bad idea
> 
> you don't need to have read or watched erased to be able to understand this, i'll make sure to explain stuff within the fic itself (but it's really good so you totally should watch it if you haven't). i just couldn't get the similarities between newt and kenya out of my head
> 
> this will be newtmas eventually, but i'm serious about it being slow burn
> 
> russian translation available [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6940392)

Anybody looking at his life would probably describe it as anything but boring, however, bored was how Thomas felt. His job as a pizza delivery driver wasn’t exactly thrilling, and the only person in the world that he could truly call a friend was his teenage coworker, Chuck. No publishers wanted anything to do with his manuscript, and he honestly didn’t blame them. It was pretty terrible. Thomas was, in many ways, completely unremarkable and forgettable, a fact that he was painfully aware of.

Not even the occasional incident of involuntary time travel could distract him from that.

He wasn’t sure when it had started. He knew it must have been after he’d started secondary school. If it had been happening to him before then than maybe -

He didn’t like to think about it.

He called it Revival and he hated it. Except he didn’t. Not really.

Whenever something went wrong near him, ranging from a shop display coming crashing down to that one memorable time he witnessed a child being hit by a train at a level crossing, time itself would snap back a few minutes. Nobody else would remember a thing, and Thomas would have just enough time to stop the bad thing from happening.

It was rare for him to ever even be thanked. The people he saved often weren’t even aware of the potential danger they were in. Sometimes, his interventions meant that _he_ got hurt instead.

Thomas knew that he’d rather suffer through a million Revivals, rather than let somebody get hurt when he could have prevented it, so he tried not to let it bother him too much.

It was slightly more difficult to do that, though, while waking up in a hospital bed.

“Thomas! You’re awake!”

Blearily, Thomas blinked his eyes open, trying to get used to the bright light of the room. “Hey Chuck.”

“You’ve been out for two days! Do you know who you are and why you’re in the hospital?”

Thomas sighed. “I’m Thomas Cooper, I’m 29 years old, and I was hit by a car.”

Chuck smiled widely. “Yep, you got it all right! The nurse was saying just now that you should be able to go home within the week. Is there anyone you want me to call?”

“No,” Thomas shook his head, “there isn’t anyone I want to bother telling.”

“Oh.” Chuck looked down for a moment. “Well, don’t worry about anything, okay? I explained everything to the manager, so you don’t even need to worry about the bike. He said to take whatever time you need to recover, then come back into work.”

“Everything?” echoed Thomas.

“Dude, I was _there_ , I saw the whole thing! It’s so amazing that you noticed the driver had passed out. You saved that kid’s life!”

“Yeah...” Thomas murmured to himself, “amazing...”

It had taken three Revivals before he’d even been able to identify what was wrong, but it wasn’t like he could explain that to Chuck.

Chuck checked his watch and jumped up suddenly. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back, I promise!” He grabbed his bag and ran out of the door, leaving Thomas alone.

Faced with nothing better to do, Thomas went back to sleep.

 

When Thomas was discharged, he went straight home. Where else would he go? It was the middle of the week, so his only friend was still in school, and there wasn’t anything else he felt like doing.

When he saw that his front door to his apartment was unlocked he was concerned for all of two seconds before he noticed the pleasing aroma coming from inside.

He stepped inside to see his mother standing at the stove, preparing a meal.

She looked over at him. “Thomas, hey. I went to the hospital, but you were asleep so I came home.”

“Hi Mum.” Thomas shrugged off his jacket and hung it up, closing the front door behind him as he came further inside.

“How’s your head?” His mother returned her focus to the food. “Are you still in any pain?”

“No, I’m fine,” he lied.

“I noticed you only have one set of dishes.” She pointed to the cupboard they were in. “Is that all you’ve got? Don’t you ever have any guests? And I noticed your bin is full of fast food wrappers, is that all you’re eating? And -”

“It’s _fine_ , Mum.” Thomas didn’t mean to snap, but that’s what he did. He barely spoke to his mother anymore, and now she was just showing up and treating him like a child?

Her eyes softened as she looked back at him. “I’m going to be staying here for a while. That okay?”

Thomas just barely held in the eye roll. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

 

Thomas was just getting ready for bed when his mother called him over. She was going to be sleeping on the sofa, and was watching tv. A news program was on, something about a missing girl being found. Thomas didn’t remember hearing anything about her disappearance in the first place. It must have happened while he was in the hospital.

“Thomas,” she gestured to the screen, “do you remember when something like this happened when you were in school?”

He froze. He’d spent most of his life actively trying to forget about it.

His mother shook her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t, it was a long time ago. Truthfully, us adults wanted nothing more than for you kids to forget all about it. But it still shows up on the news from time to time, so I wondered.”

“Yes,” said Thomas slowly, “I remember.”

His mother smiled sadly and turned her attention back to the screen.

Thomas continued his night-time routine, cursing his mother for bringing it up, because now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He had been 11 years old when it happened. Two of his classmates, and a girl from a school nearby, had been kidnapped and murdered. Then, someone who Thomas had considered to be a really good friend had been convicted of doing it. To this day Thomas was convinced that it couldn’t have been him, but nobody had listened to him at the time and all the available evidence had pointed to that person being guilty.

So Thomas had tried to forget, and throughout the rest of school he’d drifted away from his friends.

Now he was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how clear it is but thomas' mother is supposed to be mary. her name might not actually get said though

The next Revival struck just outside the supermarket.

Thomas’ mother had insisted on getting some real food, and had dragged him out to buy various things. As they walked away from the building, Thomas thought that she’d mentioned something about making curry, but honestly he wasn’t paying that much attention.

His stomach lurched and he was suddenly standing back at the supermarket doors.

What had happened? What had gone wrong? Thomas glanced around in a slight panic. Would he be able to fix it without his mother knowing?

A balloon vendor lost their grip.

A young couple practically ran past.

A car started driving away.

A little boy dropped his ice cream on the ground.

His stomach lurched and he was back at the doors.

Some lost balloons or spilled ice cream weren’t enough to trigger a Revival. Thomas couldn’t think what else it could possibly be.

There was nothing for it.

“Mum, stop a second.”

They stopped walking.

“What is it?”

“Look around. Does something feel wrong to you?”

Thankfully, she didn’t question him, and started looking around with as much concern as Thomas.

A balloon vendor lost their grip.

A young couple practically ran past.

A car started driving away.

A little boy dropped his ice cream on the ground.

_Click._

Thomas spun round to see a little girl standing alone, where the car that had driven away had just been parked. His mother put her phone away, having taken a photo of something.

The expected Revival did not come.

Thomas breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but he was glad to have broken the loop.

“Hey, Thomas!” he heard a familiar voice cry.

He turned and saw his friend, Chuck, standing back by the supermarket doors and waving. Thomas waved back and Chuck hurried over to say hi.

  


Chuck ended up invited round for dinner. The extra person was still not enough to finish all of the curry that Thomas’ mother made. Thomas figured that he’d be eating curry for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the foreseeable future.

Thomas could tell that his mother was trying to disguise her relief that he wasn’t a _complete_ loner, but Thomas knew the truth. His mother had never been able to hide her feelings from him. Chuck, bless him, either didn’t notice or pretended not to, keeping the room alive with constant chatter about school, his hobbies, and his friends.

Thomas really liked Chuck. He was so thankful that they’d ended up working similar shifts at the pizza place. Chuck had started there about a year ago and in that time had become like a younger brother to Thomas. Their other coworkers had also often been quick to point out how much Chuck obviously looked up to him. If there was just one thing in his life that Thomas didn’t regret, it was his friendship with Chuck.

The food was long gone by this point, and a quick glance at the clock told everyone that it was far later than they’d realised and the last train would be leaving really soon. Too soon for Chuck to walk to the station, if he was going to go home at all. It was decided fairly quickly that Chuck would just have to borrow Thomas’ bike for the night. Thomas could walk to work the next day, and Chuck could return it then.

Thomas walked back up the stairs to his apartment after seeing Chuck off, to see his mother standing just outside the door. “I was just saying hi to your landlady.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Did you give her some of the curry.”

“Yes.”

Thomas nodded. “Good. You made way too much.” He opened the door and they both walked back inside.

“By the way,” his mother began, “you remember what happened earlier at the supermarket?”

“Yes?”

“I think we managed to stop a kidnapping.”

Thomas spun around sharply to face her.

Her face was impassive and unreadable as she said, “I’m kidding, of course,” and she started clearing up the plates from the table.

Thomas wasn’t a complete idiot, and he knew that she was most definitely _not_ kidding. She wouldn’t joke about something like that. But he also knew that once his mother had declared something to be a joke, there was no point pushing the matter. She was not going to budge.

  


“Hey, Thomas!”

Thomas paused at the door. His shift had just ended and he was eager to get home, but he didn’t mind stopping for a quick chat with Chuck.

“I bet I can guess what you had for breakfast this morning.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. He thought so too. “Oh yeah?”

“It was curry!”

Thomas laughed. “You got it.”

“Yes!” said Chuck, as he started to do a victory dance behind the counter.

Shaking his head in amusement, Thomas yelled a quick “See you later!” as he walked out and retrieved his bike from where Chuck had chained it up.

The ride home didn’t take long, and within 20 minutes Thomas was walking up the stairs in his apartment building. Someone that he didn’t recognise was walking down the stairs in the opposite direction, but it wasn’t like he knew all of his neighbours so this wasn’t that unusual. What _was_ unusual was how the stranger seemed to purposefully collide with Thomas’ shoulder, and how they then smirked when Thomas stared at them in disbelief. Before Thomas could say anything, though, the mystery person had resumed walking downstairs. Not wanting to cause a scene, Thomas turned decisively and continued walking up.

The muttering under his breath about how rude people could be turned into much louder complaining about his mother when he reached his apartment door.

“Mum, how many times do I need to tell you?!” he stepped inside and took off his jacket. “This is the city! You can’t just leave the door wide open like that! Anyone could -”

He stopped talking.

He had looked up into his apartment properly, expecting to see his mother sitting on the sofa or something.

She was not sitting on the sofa.

She was lying on the floor.

“Mum?” Thomas slowly walked towards her.

He noticed the slowly widening pool of blood on the ground beneath her.

Thomas rushed forwards and tried to shake her awake. His mind dimly took note of the blood-covered knife that was lying on the ground next to her.

She did not stir.

Thomas heard a crash and scream from behind him. He turned to see his landlady, surrounded by the broken shards of whatever she’d been carrying when she walked in. Thomas opened his mouth to say something, anything, to ask her to call for help, but she was already running out of the door.

Without thinking, Thomas gave chase.

He heard sirens.

The landlady must have called the police.

Wait, did she think that _he_ did it?

Had she called the police on _him_?

Panicking, Thomas burst free from the apartment building doors and ran in a random direction, ignoring the shouts coming from behind him.

His stomach lurched.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates probably won't be as fast in future. i need to work out some sort of schedule

Thomas’ feet were moving beneath him as he walked through the snow down the street.

...What?

Hadn’t he just been been running? Not walking? And he was sure it had been summer. Where did all this snow come from?

Thomas slowed as he looked around. The street looked familiar somehow, but he couldn’t think where from. Was this a Revival? Where had he ended up? _When_ had he ended up?

He caught sight of a post box belonging to whatever house he was walking past. Either it was really tall, or he was suddenly really small. Wait... the houses were _also_ really big. Thomas’ brain went into overdrive as he tried desperately to make sense of what was happening. What had clearly happened.

He didn’t realise that he’d stopped walking until he felt somebody push past him.

The figure seemed to be about Thomas’ current height, but was clearly a child. The boy had dark hair, was wearing a pink coat, and was currently running away from where Thomas was standing.

“Come on! I’ll race you!” the boy called back.

Almost automatically, Thomas ran after him. He knew that kid! He just couldn’t quite place him...

He turned the corner.

There, rising up in front of him, was a school.

Specifically, Glade Primary School.

The school that Thomas used to attend as a child.

The exact building. It even had the same banner hanging over the front entrance, proudly declaring the school’s dominance in local athletics and cross-country competitions, that had hung there for the entirety of Thomas’ final year at the school.

It began to dawn on Thomas just how much shit he was in.

The boy he’d been chasing had reached the steps up to the main entrance and was whooping, celebrating his victory. He turned to face Thomas, who had once again stopped moving to stare at the school building. “Hey!” he called out. “What’s taking so long?”

Thomas shook his head to try and shake off the panic threatening to overtake him, and ran to join the boy - Minho! - at the doors.

“Sorry!” he said as he reached him. “Just tired I guess.”

“You’re not normally this out of it on a Monday morning though. You sure?” Minho asked.

Unable to think of what to say, Thomas shrugged.

Minho seemed to find this an acceptable response for some reason and made his way inside. Thomas followed him closely.

Minho was exactly how Thomas remembered. (Not that he was in the habit of remembering his childhood very often.) His friend talked excitedly about what he’d done over the weekend, which thankfully didn’t require much input from Thomas, giving him time to think and try to get his bearings.

Minho was there. He was right in front of him. He was walking and talking and gesturing wildly.

He was alive.

The two boys reached their classroom. Minho walked in without hesitation and moved directly towards a seat, presumably his own, leaving Thomas at the door. He stepped inside slowly, his mind racing. He couldn’t remember where he was supposed to sit.

Most of his class appeared to be there already, which helpfully narrowed down the possibilities. He scanned the people in the room as he walked further in, trying to see who he could identify.

Minho, Alby, Miyoko, Harriet, Gally, Beth, Siggy, Sonya, Newt.

Thomas had to pick a seat.

The giggles that sprung from the people sitting near the empty chair that he’d chosen told him that he’d picked wrong.

“What are you doing? That’s Teresa’s seat,” whispered Sonya.

Thomas nodded and backed away.

Thankfully, the next chair he tried seemed to be the right one, as Beth didn’t complain when he sat down next to her. She didn’t even look at him.

Thomas didn’t pay attention as Mr. Janson started the first lesson of the day. Even when the maths worksheets were given out, the questions were so hideously easy (they were designed for 10 year olds after all) that they didn’t require much focus to complete, so he was free to continue thinking about his current situation.

It had to be a Revival. There wasn’t any other explanation. But, if it was, he’d been sent back much further than ever before. No Revival in the past had ever been more than five minutes. This time, he’d gone back closer to 18 years.

Was he going to have to redo his entire life?

He sincerely hoped not.

The lesson ended and the kids were given a 20 minute break. Thomas was snapped back to reality by Beth standing up sharply, jolting their shared table, as she rushed over to join Harriet, Miyoko, and Sonya.

Oh, right. The snow probably meant the kids couldn’t go outside for break. Thomas supposed that was a good thing. If everyone was staying inside the classroom, he wouldn’t be expected to move.

“Can I sit?”

Thomas looked up to see the person gesturing to the now empty chair beside him.

The boy was blond, and was carrying a small sketchbook and some pencils. His name appeared in Thomas’ mind easily.

“Sure,” he said, “but I’m not really in the mood to talk right now.”

Newt smiled as he sat. “I noticed, don’t worry.” He held up his sketchbook. “I just want to be able to draw without shucking Minho interrupting me every five seconds.” Without further comment, Newt opened the pad to a blank page and began to draw.

Thomas didn’t watch, instead returning to his thoughts.

If he was stuck here now, then he’d have to relearn how to talk to those guys. As kids, he and his friends had come up with their own fake swear words. Obviously they hadn’t wanted to get into trouble for actually swearing, and they had thought they were really clever for coming up with their own alternatives. But, for Thomas, it had been 18 years since he’d used any, so he didn’t remember most of them. He’d have to learn quickly if he didn’t want to tip them off that something was wrong.

But there was a much more pressing issue than language. Why had the Revival sent him so far back?

Normally he was only given just enough time to intervene and stop the bad thing from happening. So if the same rules applied...

Thomas stood.

“Where are you going?” Newt stopped drawing and turned his head to look at him.

“Uh, I feel kinda sick so I’m going to go to the nurse.”

Newt glanced down. “Then why are you holding your bag?”

Thomas tightened his grip and didn’t answer.

A few seconds passed, the two boys staring at each other. Then Newt shrugged. “It’s okay,” he turned back to his drawing, “I’ll tell the teacher where you went.”

Thomas stammered out his thanks before practically flying out of the classroom.

He had to get home. He had to know if she was okay.

As he ran through the snow away from the school building he was just aware enough of the pale girl walking in the opposite direction that he didn’t directly collide with her, but he didn’t slow down or say hi.

Before he knew it he was standing at his old front door.

He knocked.

There was no response.

He panicked for a moment, before remembering that his mother would be at work by this time. She wouldn’t be there to let him in.

There was, however, a spare key left underneath the welcome mat.

Thomas let himself in and closed the door. He dropped his bag and looked around.

The old apartment was exactly how he remembered it. He realised that it was pretty stupid to think things like that. He’d travelled back in time, _of course_ things looked just like they used to, but he still did. Looking at the pictures on the walls and his old things lying around made him tear up a little. Even the dishes left by the sink, likely left there after breakfast that morning, were affecting him.

Overcome with emotion, Thomas sank to the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

He must have fallen asleep where he sat, because the next thing he knew was the click of the front door opening waking him up. The floor wasn’t a very comfortable surface to sleep on so his back was aching as he sat up. He looked at the person standing in the doorway.

He couldn’t help it, he started tearing up.

“What are you doing down there?” his mother smiled.

“I didn’t feel well so I came home. I guess I fell asleep.”

“Couldn’t even make it to bed, huh?” she chuckled as she came further in and crouched down next to him.

“Yeah,” Thomas looked up into her eyes, “but I feel a lot better now.”

“You sure, kiddo?”

Thomas nodded.

“Okay. Go and put your school stuff away. I’ll get started on dinner.”

Thomas scrambled to his feet and carried his bag to his bedroom.

His room was a complete tip. Thomas had to try really hard not to burst out laughing as he looked around. Clearly, his 10 year old self had had a massive aversion to tidying his room, or even pretending to. There were clothes, books, and toys everywhere. He was pretty sure he was going to trip over something before the day was out. Carefully, he made his way over to his bed (which was miraculously clear) and sat down, still soaking it all in.

How wondered how suspicious his mother would get if he cleaned his room. Probably a lot.

Giggling softly, Thomas lay back and stared up at the ceiling.

His mother.

He didn’t think that he’d forget the sight of her bloody corpse for as long as he lived. That image was definitely going to haunt him forever.

It was surreal. She had been  _ dead.  _ That had only been a few hours ago, hadn’t it? But it was also 18 years in the future.

His mother’s murder must have been the trigger for the Revival. It only happened if something bad had happened, and his mother’s death was the worst thing imaginable. But he was only ever given just enough time to prevent it. So why had he been sent so far back?

He racked his brain for a few minutes before finally coming to a realisation.

He felt his blood run cold.

The only thing that made sense was if it was the same person.

The person that killed his mother must have been the same person as the one who kidnapped and killed those kids when Thomas was 11.

His mother had said something about stopping a kidnapping at the supermarket, hadn’t she? If she’d seen the perpetrator, and it had been the same person, and they’d recognised her from back then, then it made perfect sense that they’d kill her to keep her quiet.

Thomas grabbed a pillow and lay it over his face, groaning into it.

He’d already accepted in his heart that he was going to try and stop the murders.

This was a Revival, which meant there was something that he had to do. Something had gone wrong that he needed to fix. Something near him. This was the only thing it could possibly be.

Besides, he didn’t think he could live with himself if he let his friend die again.

Thomas heard his bedroom door open.

“Dinner’s nearly ready, Thomas. Could you come and set the table?” She paused, then sighed. “Your room is such a mess.”

Thomas pushed the pillow off his face onto the floor and sat up to stare at his mother, with an expression of what he hoped resembled stubborn, childish defiance. His mother chuckled and left, leaving Thomas to follow.

It turned out that he did not remember where the dishes and cutlery were kept, but was able to locate them on the second try. If his mother noticed him randomly opening the snack cupboard, she didn’t mention it.

As they sat down to eat, Thomas’ mother asked him how his day had been. Of course, he couldn’t tell her the whole truth, and he’d come home early, so he didn’t have much to say beyond, “Minho raced me to school and I lost.” This made her laugh, and soon their roles were reversed, and she was telling him about her own day. When Thomas was actually a kid he’d found these discussions boring and annoying. Now, however, he listened with rapt attention. He wasn’t going to take one moment of this for granted.

“You know,” said Thomas’ mother once the meal was finished, “I don’t think you’ve ever been this interested in Vince’s latest conspiracy theories. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” said Thomas. He paused. Then said, “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“What?”

“Thanks for dinner! I’ll help clean up!” Thomas hurriedly grabbed the dishes off the table and placed them into the sink.

He felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder. “I’ll handle that, you strange child. Off you go now.” She gently pushed him away.

An embarrassed smile on his face, Thomas retreated to his childhood bedroom.

And immediately tripped over a stray book.

He allowed himself five seconds to internally curse his younger self for leaving it there. Then, slowly and calmly, he picked himself up and put the book on the shelf where it belonged.

He looked around.

Yeah, no. This wasn’t going to work. He was the first to admit that he wasn’t the tidiest person around but this room was completely unbearable. There was maintaining appearances and there was being a reckless idiot. At the very least, he needed to clear a path from the door to the bed.

Sighing, Thomas got to it.


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas hadn’t been close with the first victim.

Nobody had been, really.

Her name had been Teresa Agnes. She had had pale skin and dark hair. She had been eligible for free school meals. She had often been late to school, especially on Mondays. She had been quiet. She hadn’t had any close friends.

When she was just 10 years old, she had been murdered.

Thomas was actually the last person to have seen her alive. Aside from her murderer, obviously. He’d passed by the local park while walking home one day and seen her there. She’d been standing alone in the snow, looking up at a tree. Thomas remembered that he’d considered calling out to her and asking if she was okay. But he’d decided against it and carried on walking.

The police eventually found her body once the snow melted.

So, sitting in a classroom with Teresa sat just a few desks away felt pretty bizarre.

Thomas couldn’t stop staring at her.

Everyone else in the class talked to somebody else at some point. Occasionally they were genuinely asking a question about the work, but usually they were just getting in a few words of conversation with a friend. Teresa, however, spoke to nobody. She barely took her eyes off the front of the classroom.

She did, however, briefly look away when her hand brushed past her pencil, sending it tumbling to the ground. She shifted her chair out slightly and bent down to pick it up. Thomas watched intently, this was the first time she’d moved in the best part of an hour after all, and...

...Were those bruises?

They were. There were bruises on Teresa’s leg. On her thigh. Her skirt must have covered it up most of the time, but Thomas could see it while she was bent over.

Teresa sat back up in her chair, pencil successfully retrieved, and adjusted her skirt so that the bruises were no longer visible.

Thomas glanced around at the other children. He caught the end of Newt turning back to face the front, not seeing what he’d been looking at, but nobody else seemed to have noticed anything about Teresa.

Thomas didn’t want to think about where those bruises could have come from, but he was sure that the explanation wouldn’t be a nice one.

  
  


“I’m just saying, I really think you guys would like it!”

“For the last shucking time, Minho,” Siggy sounded exasperated. “Alby and I don’t want to join the running club.”

“But it’s so much fun!” Minho whined.

“Yeah, for you.” Siggy rolled his eyes. “I don’t actually like running.”

Minho gasped and brought a hand to his chest to emphasise his ‘shock.’ “You don’t like running? I don’t know if we can be friends anymore!”

“Slim it, Minho.” Newt caught Thomas’ eye and grinned. This conversation wasn’t new. “You, Tommy, and I like running. Alby and Siggy don’t. It would get boring really quickly if we all liked exactly the same things.”

The five boys were standing near the back of the classroom. It was halfway through their lunch hour, but the snow outside meant that they had to stay indoors. Again, Thomas didn’t mind. Minho’s why-aren’t-we-all-runners rant (which, if Thomas remembered correctly, happened about once a week) was giving him a perfect opportunity to listen to his friends talk, and try to relearn their slang. It wasn’t turning out to be too difficult, and he reckoned he was getting the hang of it.

Newt turned to face him properly. “Actually, Tommy, can I ask you something? It’s kinda personal.”

Thomas nodded.

Newt drew in a deep breath. “Do you have a crush on Teresa? I noticed you staring at her earlier.”

Thomas was about to respond when Minho clapped his hand down on his shoulder, grinning. “You have a crush on Teresa? Why didn’t you say so?!”

“Because I don’t?” Thomas shook his head firmly. “I’m just curious about her is all.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” asked Alby, an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t you worry about it!” Minho spun Thomas round to face him. “I can set you up with her.”

“Please don’t...”

But Minho didn’t hear him, having already strode halfway across the classroom to where Teresa was sitting.

Thomas shot a glare at Newt, who looked a little sheepish.

“Sorry,” he said. “If I’d known that slinthead would react like that I would’ve asked you in private.”

Thomas sighed. “It’s okay.”

“So, just to be sure, you don’t have a crush on Teresa?” asked Siggy.

“No, I don’t,” said Thomas.

“Who  _ do _ you like, then?”

“I don’t have a crush on anybody.”

“That’s boring.”

Thomas smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Minho returned with a huge smile on his face. He pointed at Thomas. “You are going to be meeting Teresa at the bench by the lake after school today.”

Newt looked at Thomas apologetically. “Should I go tell her not to bother? This is my fault after all.”

Thomas shook his head. “No, it’s okay, I’ll meet her there.”

Thomas did actually want to talk to Teresa, so really Minho had done him a favour. Getting to know her better could only help him, after all. Thomas may have mentally been 29, but as far as everyone else was concerned he was only 10, and there were limits to what a 10 year old could do. But being there for Teresa, and being her friend, might just be what it takes to save her.

  
  


Thomas was about to leave at the end of school when his friends crowded around him, stopping him from getting more than three steps from his desk.

“Remember,” said Alby, “you’re not going home yet. You need to go meet with Teresa.”

“I know. I hadn’t forg-”

“Do you remember where you’re meeting her?” asked Siggy.

“Yes, the bench by the la-”

“Good that!” Minho clapped him hard on the back. “It’s time for you to go get your girl!”

“I don’t...” Thomas sighed. There wasn’t any point fighting with him over it. Thomas glanced up at the clock at the front of the classroom.

_ Shit. _ He was going to be late. Teresa had walked out of school the moment their last class was over. She could be there by now. What if she thought he wasn’t coming?

Thomas said goodbye and quickly walked out of the room. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard a voice call out behind him.

“Hey, Tommy!”

Thomas stopped and looked back up at Newt.

“Good luck.”

Thomas smiled and nodded, then turned around and ran down the stairs and out of the school building. He didn’t stop running until he reached the agreed meeting point.

She was already sat on the bench when he finally got there.

Thomas stood at the end of the bench, recovering his breath fairly quickly, not sure what to do. Should he sit down next to her? If so, how close should he sit? How far away? Should he stand in front of her? Should he just stay where he was? What were the appropriate actions for a kid who was just trying to make a friend?

“So you wanted to talk?”

The sound of her voice made Thomas jump. “Uh, yes!” He couldn’t tell how she was feeling. It was like she had carefully guarded her emotions from showing in her face and voice. She also didn’t look at him, instead staring out at the frozen lake. Thomas nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t know what Minho said to you, but he probably made it sound like I’m in love with you, which I’m not, so sorry about that.”

Teresa did look at him then, but only out of the corner of her eyes. Her face remained facing the same direction it had before.

Shuck it, (huh, he  _ was  _ catching on quickly). He was aiming to sound like a kid, wasn’t he? He might as well commit to it.

“I was just thinking that since we walk home in the same direction that we should be friends.”

Teresa breathed out, a soft mist appearing in front of her mouth before dissipating rapidly. Thomas noticed that she suddenly seemed much less tense than she had been a couple of seconds ago.

She turned her head to look at him.

“Did Beth put you up to this?”

“What? No!” Thomas vehemently shook his head. “I wouldn’t do something like that! Anyway, Beth’s kinda mean.”

“She is,” Teresa agreed. She looked back out at the lake.

“So...?” said Thomas after a few seconds of silence.

“So what?”

“So, will you be my friend?”

Teresa shrugged. “Haven’t you already got friends?”

“Yes, but they can be your friends too.”

“Why?”

“Why not? They’re cool once you get to know them. And you seem really nice.”

Teresa laughed softly at that. “How can you be so sure? You barely know me.”

Thomas grinned. “True, but I can tell. I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You say that, but then one day you’ll be really wrong about someone and it’ll be a disaster.”

“Maybe.” Thomas shrugged. “But I know that I’m not wrong about you.”

The small smile that had appeared on Teresa’s face dropped away. She stood and grabbed her bag from where it had been sitting next to her on the bench.

“I saw you running home yesterday. You looked happy.” She stared at the ground, watching her foot gently kick at the snow.

Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “I was happy,” he said. A few seconds of silence passed, then he said, “You never answered me.”

“I’ll think about it.” She turned to face him properly. “You should be getting home. It’s cold.”

“What about you? We could walk together.”

She shook her head. “I’ve got some stuff I need to do first. I’ll head home soon.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Thomas decided that that would have to be good enough for now, and started to walk home alone.

Teresa had actually seemed okay with the idea of being friends with him. Granted, it hadn’t been an immediate and definite yes, but it hadn’t been a no either. He’d even made her laugh and smile. That could only be a good thing!

Come to think of it, he didn’t think he’d  _ ever  _ seen her smile before.


	6. Chapter 6

Teresa didn’t approach Thomas at school the next day. An observer wouldn’t be able to tell that they’d talked at all. Nothing was different.

His friends knew, though.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well with Teresa, then?” Minho said as he dropped down into the seat next to Thomas once break started.

“No, it went fine.”

“Really?” asked Alby. “I don’t know if you noticed, what with you staring at her and all, but she hasn’t looked at you all day.”

“I haven’t been staring! And she sits further towards the front. She’d get in trouble if she turned around just to look at me.”

“So?” asked Minho. “Harriet turns round to talk to Sonya all the shucking time.”

Newt lightly shoved Minho’s shoulder. “Leave Sonya out of it.”

“Why should I? It’s true!”

“It’s not her fault!”

“Teresa isn’t Harriet,” Siggy interjected before a proper argument could break out. “Harriet doesn’t care if she gets into trouble. Most people aren’t like that.”

Thomas sent him a thankful look, and said, “Teresa doesn’t really like drawing attention to herself, anyway.”

“Aha! You _do_ have a crush on her!” Minho pointed in triumph. “How else would you have known that about her?”

“...I’ve just been paying attention?”

“That proves my point even more!” Minho grinned. “Besides, I bet she likes you. She never talks to anyone else ever. Especially not alone!”

Newt rolled his eyes and sat on the desk between them. “Hey slinthead, give it a rest, would you? If Tommy says that he doesn’t have a crush on Teresa, then you should just accept it. It’s not any of our shucking business, anyway. If he wanted to tell us then he would”

Minho looked like he wanted to keep going, but thankfully decided to listen to Newt and stopped.

Newt turned to Thomas. “So what actually happened?”

“I said that I wanted to be her friend and she said that she’d think about it.” Thomas shrugged. “That’s it.”

Newt frowned slightly. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”

“No, I think it is.” Thomas gestured towards Teresa’s empty chair (she’d left the classroom for some reason). “She was nice yesterday. I think she might just be shy.”

“So,” Alby said sternly, “are the rest of us expected to just become her friends as well?”

Thomas gulped, Alby’s tone and facial expression making him feel a little nervous.

He nodded.

He needn’t have worried. Alby broke into a huge grin. “Good that.”

The others nodded their agreement. They were all willing to bring Teresa into their friendship group. That should make things easier.

  


It was Wednesday, so normally Thomas, Newt, and Minho would have had running club after school, but it was cancelled because of the snow. Minho decided to just go home, saying that he wanted to use the extra time to play some video games.

Thomas was about to leave as well when he noticed that Newt hadn’t moved from his desk, having instead pulled his sketchbook out and beginning to draw something.

“You’re not going home?” asked Thomas.

“No. I’ve got to wait for Sonya.”

Oh, right. Newt’s twin sister, Sonya, had choir after school on Wednesdays. The snow wouldn’t have affected that.

“So you’re just going to stay here on your own?”

Newt shrugged.

Thomas walked over to the seat next to Newt and sat. “I’ll stay.”

Newt put his pencil down and turned to face him. “You don’t have to do that. I’m okay by myself.”

“Yeah, you’re okay by yourself, but that doesn’t mean you should have to be. It’s an hour and a half. You’ll get lonely! Besides, I don’t live that far from school anyway.”

Newt smiled. “Thanks Tommy.”

“It’s no problem.” Thomas leaned over to look at the mostly empty page. “What are you drawing?”

Newt slammed the sketchbook shut. “Nothing!” he said quickly. He relaxed a little. “It’s not very good and if you’re here then we’re probably just going to talk so it doesn’t matter anyway.” He slipped the closed book into his bag.

“Okay, then.” Thomas smiled. “Actually, I wanted to say thanks.”

“What for?”

“Getting Minho and the others to stop going on about it. They were making it out to be such a big thing and it really wasn’t.”

“It’s no problem,” Newt echoed Thomas’ previous statement, and they both laughed. Once their laughter had stopped, Newt spoke again. “By the way, about Teresa,” he turned to face Thomas properly, “I think that it’s great that you’re reaching out to her and all, but I can’t help but feel like there’s something else going on.” His broke eye contact. “I’m not trying to be nosy or anything. I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk to someone.” He looked back into Thomas’ eyes. “We all are.”

Thomas smiled. “Thank you, really. And yeah, I know that you guys are just trying to help. Minho did get her to talk to me, after all.”

“So do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About Teresa.”

“There isn’t all that much more to say, but I really do think that we can be friends.”

“That’s good.” Newt smiled.

A few minutes passed in a comfortable silence. Something that Thomas remembered about Newt was that there had never been any pressure to talk around him. He was grateful for that now. Thomas grabbed a book out of his bag as Newt retrieved his sketchbook from where he’d stashed it and opened it to a clean page. Thomas read about a page of the book before deciding that watching Newt draw was far more interesting.

They spent most of that hour and a half like this. Newt would ask Thomas for things to draw and would then draw them. Soon the page was filled with a wild and random assortment of items, ranging from unicorns and butterflies to cityscapes and tanks.

When the page was completely full, and absolutely nothing else could fit on it, they sat back and admired their work.

“It looks really good,” said Thomas.

Carefully, Newt tore the page from the pad. He handed it to Thomas. “There. It’s yours.”

“But you drew it! You should keep it.”

“You’re the one who came up with most of the ideas for it. And anyway, it’s a gift, shuckface. You can’t refuse a gift.”

Thomas couldn’t argue with that. He took the page of impressive doodles and carefully slid it into his bag so that it wouldn’t get creased. He looked into Newt’s eyes, a serious expression on his face. “I shall treasure it always.”

Newt burst out laughing. “You’d better!”

Thomas really meant it. Their joint artwork definitely hadn’t come into existence the first time around, but he really loved it.

Newt glanced up at the clock and sighed. “Choir’s about to finish.”

The two boys put away their things and walked to the classroom that choir was held in. They waited outside the door, listening to the muffled singing coming from within.

It wasn’t long before Sonya came out. The three began to walk home together.

“Why does it have to be so cold?” asked Sonya, shoving her hands deep into her coat’s pockets.

“Because the universe hates you, specifically,” said Newt.

Sonya pushed him in response. Newt pushed her back. Thomas, who was walking behind them, rolled his eyes even though he knew they couldn’t see him. Seeing them interact like this gave him yet another sharp reminder that he was surrounded by children. He hoped he wouldn’t have to intervene.

Thankfully, he didn’t. Their play-fight didn’t escalate further than them pushing each other around a little. Once they got tired of that, Sonya angled her body to indicate she was talking to Thomas and said, “Didn’t you get a new pair of gloves a couple of weeks ago? Where are they?”

They stopped walking. Newt’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a weird thing for you to notice.”

Thomas shrugged. Come to think of it, he _had_ gotten new gloves in the winter of this school year, but he’d lost them really quickly. “I don’t know where they are.”

“You probably left them in the hideout,” said Newt. “That’s the last place that _I_ saw them, anyway.”

“Hey!” Sonya snapped her head to face her brother. “You can’t call me out for noticing things and then go and say something like that!”

“Of course I’d know, though. He’s my friend.”

“Oh yeah? I doubt that Alby would’ve had any idea where his gloves are!”

Newt’s face was already slightly red due to the cold, but seemed to get a little redder. Thomas decided to put a stop to whatever argument was brewing.

“Could we go to the hideout, then? To look for my gloves?”

Newt briefly looked at Thomas like he’d grown a second head, before narrowing his eyes in what might have been suspicion. “Tommy,” he said gently, “we talked about this last week, remember? We said that we wouldn’t go to the hideout if it had been snowing, because then people would see our footprints.”

Thomas laughed nervously. “Yeah, of course I remembered that. I was just testing you.”

“If you say so.”

Sonya sighed and started walking again, leaving the other two to follow.

Newt nudged Thomas with his shoulder. “So I was wondering something.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you read the essays yet?”

“Huh?” It took Thomas a moment to think of what Newt could be talking about, but quickly remembered. Earlier that school year, all of the kids in their class had had to write a short essay about themselves. The essays had then all been printed in a book, and each of the kids had been given a copy. The idea was that it would remind them of their early school years in the future. Thomas didn’t know where his copy had gone in the present. It had probably ended up thrown away at some point. Now, however, it was probably somewhere in his bedroom. If he was really lucky, it would be on the shelf. “No, I haven’t.”

“There are a couple of interesting ones. You should check them out.” They reached a corner. Newt and Sonya needed to turn left to go home, while Thomas needed to go right. “Anyway,” said Newt, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waved as he and his sister broke away from him.

Thomas walked home as quickly as he could. Pausing only to remove the beautiful page of doodles from his bag and laying it on his desk, promising himself that he’d find a better place to display it, he made a beeline for the bookshelf.

Thomas figured that Newt was probably hinting at Teresa’s essay being the interesting one. If only he could find the shucking book...

No way.

Of course it would be the one he’d tripped over on Monday.

He pulled it off the shelf. The back cover had a massive crease down it where Thomas had stepped on it. Normally the sight of books damaged like this would annoy him, but this book had made him fall over, so he didn’t have any sympathy for it. It had had it coming.

He sat on his bed and opened the book to Teresa’s essay.


	7. Chapter 7

_Someday I’ll Be Bigger - by Teresa Agnes_

 

_Someday I’ll be bigger._

_When someday comes, I’m going to go to a deserted island._

_There won’t be anyone else there. There won’t be any pain or sadness. There won’t be any adults, or children, or classmates, or teachers. Even my mother won’t be there._

_Someday I’ll be bigger._

_On that island, in my safe haven, I can do whatever I want. I can climb trees, or swim in the sea, or eat way too much, or sleep for way too long._

_There won’t be anyone to stop me._

_Someday I’ll be bigger._

_Back home, everything else will go on as normal. Kids will go to school. Adults will go to work. Mum will live her life._

_For them, nothing at all will have changed._

_Someday I’ll be bigger._

_Someday can’t come soon enough._

 

The essay wasn’t very long. Thomas read over it multiple times, paying close attention to every word.

It was clearly a cry for help.

Something bad was happening to Teresa. That much was obvious. Her essay also singled her mother out specifically. This, added to the bruises up her leg and the fact that Teresa had seemed reluctant to go home the day before despite the cold led Thomas to a horrible conclusion.

Teresa’s mother was probably physically abusing her.

A surge of anger coursed through his body.

But what on earth could he, for all intents and purposes a 10 year old kid, do to help?

He kept thinking about it, making plans and scrapping them as he realised how they wouldn’t work.

He needed to stop her from being murdered. That was the top priority. But shit, there was no way that he could just leave her to suffer either.

He came up with the beginning of an idea. Really, it was just to make them closer friends, but it was much better than nothing.

He was going to invite Teresa round for his birthday.

It was currently the later half of February. Thomas’ birthday was on March 2nd. Close enough to be useful, and far enough away that he wouldn’t be scrambling to get everything ready.

Teresa had been murdered some time in March, the first time around.

Of course, everyone around Thomas thought that he was a 10 year old. He couldn’t just plan a birthday party on his own. So, he decided to talk to his mother about it over dinner.

“Hey, mum?”

“Yes, Thomas?”

“You know how my birthday’s coming up?”

She smiled. “What do you want?”

“Oh, no! It’s nothing like that! I was just wondering if I could invite some friends over that day.”

His mother thought for a moment, then said, “That shouldn’t be a problem. How many people are we talking? The flat isn’t very big, you know.”

“Not many. Just five.” Thomas held up his hand, showing five fingers for emphasis.

“Okay, sure, that’s a manageable number.” His mother ate another mouthful of food. “Which five?”

“Newt, Minho, Alby, Siggy, and Teresa.”

“Teresa? I don’t think I’ve heard that name before.”

Thomas shook his head. “You probably haven’t. She’s a girl in my class, but I only started talking to her recently. She lives a couple of streets over.”

“And you already want to invite her to your birthday party? You must really like her.”

Thomas groaned. “Mum, I don’t have a crush on Teresa. I get enough of this from Minho, I don’t need you joining in.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay. I won’t bring it up again. Although, if you haven’t been talking to her for that long, then why are you inviting her?”

“Well, she doesn’t really have any friends. I thought that that wasn’t fair, because she seems like a really nice person. So I figured that I could be her friend. That’s kinda why I want to have a birthday party this year, as well. So that she’s actually included in something.”

His mother smiled. “That’s really good of you, Thomas.” She ate another mouthful. “Seeing as this is the first time you’ve actually asked for a birthday party, how about I bake a massive cake?”

“That would be awesome!”

 

Teresa left school really quickly the next day. It was slightly annoying, because Thomas had wanted to talk to her.

“Look, there she is!” Siggy pointed out of the window. “If you run you could catch up with her!”

“Siggy...” warned Newt.

“It’s okay Newt, don’t worry.” Thomas pulled his coat on. “I’ll see you shanks later!”

He heard them continue to talk as he left.

(“Why are you joining in with that? I thought you were the sensible one.”

“I just wanna be a wingman for someone. He might have a shot.”

“He _doesn’t like her_ so it _doesn’t matter._ ”)

Annoying as it was that Teresa had rushed out of the school, Thomas didn’t need to run. He knew where she would be.

If her mother really was hurting her, then Teresa probably wouldn’t want to go home for as long as possible.

Thomas had often seen her standing in the park. That’s where he’d last seen her, the first time.

So that’s where he went.

And there she was. Teresa was sitting on a swing, staring down at her feet.

Thomas walked up and sat on the other swing next to her, placing his bag onto his lap.

Teresa looked up suddenly at the sound of the snow next to her crunching and somebody sitting down, only to look away again when she saw who it was.

“Hi,” said Thomas.

“Hey,” said Teresa.

“I was serious, you know.”

“Huh?”

“About us being friends. I was serious.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I thought maybe it was just a prank.”

Thomas’ heart broke a little at that. “Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t?”

“You told me that Beth didn’t put you up to it. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t a prank.” Teresa didn’t look at him, instead watching her fingers run through the fur of a small teddy bear keyring that was hanging off her bag.

“Well, it wasn’t! I’m talking to you and asking to be your friend because I _want_ to. Nobody’s putting me up to it, and it isn’t a mean spirited prank. I genuinely want to be your friend.” Thomas opened and reached into his bag, digging around inside “Here, I’ve got something for you.” Thomas pulled out what he was looking for and handed it to her.

“What is it?”

“I’m having a birthday party and I want you to come.”

“But... won’t there be lots of people there?”

“It’ll just be my friends, so not that many. Besides, I wanted to make sure I gave you the first invitation.”

Teresa opened the folded piece of paper and read the writing inside. Thomas had stayed up late making them. They were all decorated with a hand-drawn birthday cake, each one with a different colour scheme. He’d put a lot of effort into making them look nice.

What? Just because he was really 29 didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate these things.

“It’s on March 2nd?” Teresa asked.

“Yeah. That’s my birthday.” Thomas caught her eyes. “You will be able to come, right?” He tried not to sound too hopeful, and was painfully aware of just how miserably he’d failed at that.

Teresa looked back down at the invitation and stared at it for a few seconds, before saying, “I don’t see why not.” She opened her bag and slid the invitation inside.

A sudden thought struck Thomas. “Hey, when’s _your_ birthday?”

Teresa’s eyes widened, as if she were shocked that he was asking her that. She didn’t respond.

“...What?” asked Thomas.

She glanced down and pointed at his hands. “Aren’t your hands cold?”

Thomas decided to let her change the subject for now. “Yeah. I did have some gloves but I must have lost them somewhere.”

“That sucks.”

“It really does.” Thomas rubbed his hands together. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Why don’t you go home then?”

“Can we be friends?”

Teresa rolled her eyes. “Yes, fine, whatever, just go home already.”

Thomas smiled as he stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Teresa!”

She rolled her eyes again, but smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

Thomas did actually need to find out Teresa’s birthday. He hadn’t just been trying to make conversation.

Three children had been murdered the first time around. Teresa Agnes, Brenda Rosier, and Minho Park. Out of the three, Teresa was the only one who hadn’t turned 11 yet. He was already pretty sure that her birthday was in March, which was the month in which she’d been killed.

That meant that the date of her death, Day X, was in March but before her birthday. Knowing her birthday would really help to narrow it down, and would give him a much better chance of saving her.

He’d just have to ask her again some point soon.

  
  


“So, who’s actually the fastest runner in the class?” Siggy asked during lunchtime.

Minho grinned and flung his arm around Newt’s shoulders. “That’d be this one, right here.” He ruffled his hair. “He wins every single race without even trying!”

Newt grumbled and wriggled out of Minho’s grasp. “I have to try really hard, actually. I’m not that great.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you always win!”

Newt smiled. “I guess.”

“So, how about other than Newt?” asked Alby.

Minho looked up, as if he were actually thinking about it. “Uh, it varies, I guess? We’re all pretty even.”

“Hey!”

The five boys looked up at the person who’d interrupted them.

It was Gally.

Gally was also in the running club with Thomas, Newt, and Minho, but they weren’t friends. When they were younger they had gotten along okay. Then something had happened. Thomas couldn’t remember the details (it  _ was _ over two decades ago after all) but Minho and Gally had had a massive falling out, resulting in Gally’s nose being badly broken and him no longer being on speaking terms with the rest of them for at least a year afterwards.

“What do you want?” Newt’s eyes narrowed and his voice turned cold.

“We aren’t all even! Newt might be the fastest runner, but I bet I’m faster than the rest of you!”

Minho scoffed. “Really? You think that? I’m pretty sure that Thomas and I beat you all the time.”

Gally crossed his arms. “You do not.”

“Yes we do!”

Thomas looked around at the rest of the class. “Uh, guys...”

“You don’t!” Gally was almost shouting now.

“Why don’t you prove it?”

The boys turned to look at the person who’d spoken.

Thomas had never really talked to Miyoko before, but he knew that she was one of Sonya’s friends. In that moment he wasn’t sure if she was being sensible or a shit-stirrer.

“What are you talking about?” Gally snapped.

“Well, there isn’t anybody in the sports hall right now. You could have a race. The winner would have proved that they’re faster.”

“She’s right!” Harriet chimed in. “You should race!”

Before Thomas knew it, all of the kids in the class were standing up and rushing out of the classroom, headed in the direction of the sports hall. Minho practically sprinted to the door, eager to get down there and prove himself. Thomas and Newt were among the last to leave, neither of them actually wanting to spend their lunch break racing people just so Gally could maybe prove a point.

Thomas remembered something like this happening the first time round. He had no idea who had won, though.

The class quickly decided that since everyone already knew that Newt was the fastest, he would not be participating. Sonya pushed her brother towards Alby and Siggy so that he could watch with them.

Everyone else in their class who was a member of the running club lined up at the starting line.

“The first one to run around the outside of the hall five times wins!” declared Miyoko. “Does that work for everyone?”

Some of the boys called back that it did, including Minho. Gally stayed silent, instead choosing to glare at him and Thomas.

Thomas ignored him. His attention was held more by Teresa.

Teresa hadn’t spoken to him yet that day, and was currently standing just in front of Beth and Harriet. Beth looked at Thomas and followed his gaze to the girl in front of her, seemingly only realising then who she was. She shoved Teresa’s shoulder to get her attention.

“Hey, Thomas is staring at you. Is he your boyfriend?”

Teresa shook her head, not turning to give Beth her full attention.

“Well, Gally’s probably going to win anyway, so that’s probably a good thing!” Beth burst out laughing. Harriet, to her credit, looked a little uncomfortable and took a small step away from her friend.

Teresa still didn’t turn to face Beth. Instead she caught Thomas’ eyes and said, “You’d better not suck.”

Thomas didn’t have time to respond because the race was about to begin.

As the small group of boys began to run, it quickly became apparent that the only people that were in with a chance of winning were Minho, Gally and Thomas. Some of the others even started dropping out when they realised, unwilling to waste their time or energy. By the time that they reached the final lap, only the three potential winners remained.

Minho stumbled. He recovered quickly, and didn’t give up, but was now running half a pace behind the other two. It was enough; he wasn’t going to win.

Thomas and Gally were neck and neck.

To tell the truth, Thomas didn’t actually care who was faster. He didn’t run with being the fastest as his goal. He never had. Not only was there no chance of him ever beating Newt, but he didn’t see the point of being overly competitive. He liked running, and found it fun. That was it. Gally, on the other hand, seemed to really care about winning. Or maybe he just wanted to do something better than the people he’d used to be friends with. Either way, he was a lot more invested in the race and its outcome than Thomas was.

They were coming up to the finish line.

Thomas shortened his strides ever so slightly. Gally did the opposite, and crossed the finish line a second before Thomas did.

The room exploded with noise.

Thomas hadn’t even caught his breath when Gally grabbed his collar and dragged him round to face him.

“Do you think you’re doing me a favour or something? I hate you!”

With that, he dropped Thomas and stormed off.

As Thomas brought his hand up to his neck to readjust his shirt collar, he realised something.

He’d had the exact same thought process the first time around. He’d inadvertently caused things to play out in exactly the same way that they had done before. The thought scared him slightly. If things kept going exactly as they had done before then Teresa and Minho were going to end up dead.

Speaking of Minho, he, Siggy, and Alby, were all crowding round Thomas and congratulating him.

“That was really close!”

“Shame you couldn’t beat that shank for me.”

“You nearly had him!”

Thomas stood up. He’d nearly regained full control of his breath, so was able to say thanks. As he did, he looked around for Newt, who hadn’t rushed over with the others.

There he was! He was still standing where the group had watched from, staring at Thomas with an unreadable expression on his face. Thomas caught his eye and frowned, silently asking what the problem was. Newt sighed and walked over to join them, standing beside Thomas.

“You could’ve won,” he said.

Thomas hung his head. “Yeah, I know.” The other three had started talking to each other, so weren’t listening to them.

Newt bumped his shoulder against Thomas’. “You probably made a good call. If you’d beaten him he might’ve become unbearable.” He looked at Thomas out of the corner of his eyes and smiled. “At least this way he’s satisfied for a bit.”

“Yeah,” agreed Thomas. He quickly scanned the hall. Kids were already beginning to leave. They didn’t have much of their lunch break left, and not everyone had finished eating.

He watched Teresa walk straight out of the door.

“Hey, Tommy, you still with us?” Newt waved his hand in front of Thomas’ face.

“What?” Thomas blinked. “Yes! Sorry!”

Newt laughed softly. “Come on. Siggy wants to finish his sandwich.”

The group joined the back of the small crowd trying to get back to the classroom.


	9. Chapter 9

Teresa didn’t talk to him for the rest of the school day.

Once they were told they could go home, she quickly packed her things up and walked out. Thomas had to run to catch up with her, catching her on the stairs.

He walked a few steps behind her and started to talk. “Hey, what did you think of the race earlier? Gally’s actually pretty fast, huh?” No response. “So, um, when’s your birthday. I told you mine, so really -”

“Why did you let him win?” she interrupted. She stopped walking down the stairs but kept facing forwards. Thomas came to a halt just behind her.

“Well, he clearly wanted it more than I did.” Thomas shrugged, despite knowing that she couldn’t see him. “I don’t really care about who’s fastest.”

“But _you_ were faster.” Teresa shook her head, then sighed. “I’ll see you on Monday.” She resumed walking down the stairs without looking back, leaving Thomas standing on the steps. He watched her walk away.

He still didn’t know when her birthday was.

“Hey, shank.”

Thomas turned around to see Minho leaning against the banister a few steps above him.

“Do you wanna walk home together?”

Thomas suddenly had an idea.

“Sorry, I’ve just remembered something.” He rushed back up the stairs past Minho. “I’ll catch up!”

Thomas gently pushed open the staff room door. He knew that his teacher must have left the class register lying around somewhere. It should have everyone’s birthdays in, so he could just find out Teresa’s that way. Now, where could it be...?

Found it! It didn’t take long because it had just been lying on his teacher’s desk. Thomas picked the folder up and began to open it.

A firm hand grasped his shoulder.

“What are you doing in here?”

Thomas turned and looked up at the man. “Oh! Mr Janson, sir, sorry, I was just -”

He smiled. “Is it about Teresa?”

Thomas nodded. “I just wanted to know her birthday. I told her mine, but she wouldn’t tell me hers.”

Mr Janson took the folder out of Thomas’ hands and sat in his chair, flipping it open. He laughed. “I think I know why. Here, take a look.” He held the folder out so that Thomas could read from it.

Teresa’s birthday was March 2nd.

“She probably felt shy about telling you, seeing as it’s on the same day as yours.” Mr Janson closed the folder and placed it down on his desk.

“Probably.” Thomas smiled. “Thank you sir!”

“It’s no problem. Are you planning on doing something that day?”

“I’m having a birthday party. It was just going to be for me, but if it’s her birthday too then we can share.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea.” Mr Janson looked at his watch. “You should be heading home.”

“Okay. And thanks again!”

Thomas was the last person out of school that day.

Peter Janson.

Thomas had liked him. Out of all the teachers he’d had through primary school, Mr Janson had been his favourite. He was able to effectively keep the classroom under control, so people had actually been able to get their work done. However, he’d also managed not to be mean, somehow occupying a sort of Goldilocks Zone, a perfect balance between being strict and being friendly. And he was perceptive as hell, too. Thomas had barely spoken to Teresa inside of school, but Mr Janson had still noticed that they’d become friends.

And, thanks to him, Thomas now knew when Day X was.

The day that Teresa was murdered the first time around had to have been March 1st.

The universe had finally decided to be kind to him. All that he’d need to do was make sure that there wasn’t any opportunity for her to be snatched that day, and she would be safe. Then she and him could enjoy their birthdays together.

Thomas made his way to the park, expecting to find Teresa there as he was fairly certain that that was where she she spent most evenings.

The park was empty of all other people.

A slightly more thorough look around told him that Teresa was most definitely not there, and probably hadn’t been that day at all. Thomas was about to give up and check if maybe she’d gone to the library when he heard somebody call out to him.

“Thomas! Over here!”

Thomas turned towards the voice.

He knew that he couldn’t stop the giant smile that started to spread over his face, so he didn’t even try. Instead he ran to greet the person who’d got his attention.

“Jorge! Hi!” Thomas wrapped his arms around the man in a hug.

“Hey, hermano! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy, sorry.” Thomas broke the hug and stepped backwards. He didn’t know if he’d ever hugged him like that before, but if it had been unusual then thankfully Jorge didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Jorge Fring was a local guy in his early 20s. He often peppered his speech with random words in Spanish, a vocal tic that, as a kid, Thomas had thought was really cool. He’d often been there for Thomas whenever he’d felt lonely, offering company and somebody to talk too. His advice wasn’t all that bad either, usually advocating being brave and having confidence.

They sat on the same swing set that Thomas and Teresa had sat on the day before and talked for a while.

“How’s school going?”

“It’s okay. I’m not failing anything.”

Jorge laughed. “That’s always good. How are your friends?”

“They’re good. Minho and Gally got into a bit of an argument today, though. The whole class ended up involved.” Thomas explained what had happened with the race at lunchtime.

Jorge nodded in thought. “It sounds like you did a really nice thing. Most people would’ve actually aimed to win.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t that important to me.” Thomas thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you know a girl called Teresa Agnes?”

“Little Teresa? Dark hair, this tall?” he gestured and Thomas nodded. “Yeah hermano, I know her. Why? Is she in your class?”

“She is. We’ve kinda become friends.”

“Have you?” Jorge beamed. “That’s great! She always seemed so lonely. I’m glad she has some friends her own age now.”

They carried on talking for a few more minutes, but then Jorge had to go, saying that his dad would be wanting him back for dinner. As he left, he made a passing comment that Thomas seemed a lot more mature than last time they’d spoken, which Thomas made sure to laugh off.

He stayed sat on the swing and watched his friend walk away.

Back in the present, Jorge Fring was serving a life sentence in prison for the kidnapping and murder of Teresa Agnes, Brenda Rosier, and Minho Park. Ever since he’d been arrested he’d sworn blind that he was innocent, but it hadn’t stopped him from being convicted.

There was no way he was really guilty.

Talking with him again only served to strengthen Thomas’ resolve. If he could stop the murders from taking place, then not only would he save his friends’ lives, but he’d stop Jorge from ever being falsely accused.

It was all down to him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check the tags y'all, warnings apply here

He ended up checking the library. And the run-down arcade. And the children’s centre. Teresa wasn’t in any of them. Which meant that she had to have gone home.

He was pretty sure which house was hers. It was only a couple of streets away from his own, after all, and kids had a tendency to memorise where their classmates lived. Also, it had been shown on the news a lot after she went missing. The sight of part of his own home town being played on national television was kinda difficult to forget.

Thomas rang the doorbell. He really hoped that Teresa would be willing to speak to him. He knew that she was upset about earlier, and he wanted to apologise. Him purposefully losing a race would have been a really stupid thing for their new friendship to fall apart over, but Teresa was only 10. These kind of things are really important to 10 year olds. Thomas was pretty sure that whatever Minho and Gally had fallen out over, it was probably just as dumb. He couldn’t afford to let that happen to him and Teresa.

He frowned. He’d been standing at the door for a couple of minutes now. There hadn’t been any movement from inside.

He rang the bell again.

Still no response.

Maybe they’d gone out?

Thomas sighed and turned around. He could always try again tomorrow.

He’d only taken a few steps away from the door when he spotted something.

It was the teddy bear keyring. When Thomas had seen it the day before, it had looked soft and fluffy, and had been securely attached to Teresa’s bag. It didn’t look like that now. The small bear was lying on the ground, bedraggled and trodden on. It was only just recognisable as being the same one as before.

Then Thomas noticed the footprints in the snow around it. He could clearly see an adult’s, but there was something else. It didn’t look like footprints at all. It looked...

It looked like somebody had been dragged.

Thomas raced around the back of the house, following the footprints. They led into the garden and up to the shed. Without thinking about what he could possibly find, Thomas pulled the door open with all of his strength.

He found her.

Teresa was lying on the floor of the shed, curled in on herself, as if she was trying to keep warm. Which made sense, seeing as she was just wearing a t-shirt and shorts. There were cuts and bruises all up and down her arms and legs, and her hair was strewn out in such a way that it was obvious that the tips at one part had been stuck together with some sort of liquid. And was that... blood?

For a moment, Thomas was genuinely afraid that she was dead.

“Go away,” she murmured.

Thomas tried not to make his sigh of relief too obvious. She was alive. She was also badly hurt. “What are you talking about?”

She shook her head and curled in on herself further. “Don’t look at me.”

“Are you kidding?” said Thomas in disbelief. He dropped his bag and pulled his coat off, stepping inside, aiming to put it on her. “We’ve got to get you out of here!”

“Go away!” Teresa shouted. Thomas jerked backwards. Teresa started to sob. “Just leave me.”

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to scoop her up and take her home, to get her warm and far away from where she could ever be hurt like this. But she didn’t want to be approached. If he got closer, she might panic, which would only make the situation worse.

He felt a presence loom over him.

“What are you doing out here, Teresa?”

Thomas looked up at the person.

It was a woman. Her hair was a pale blonde colour, and had been pulled up into a professional looking updo. She had a creepy looking smile on her face, and when she’d spoken her voice had sounded slightly like she was holding back laughter.

Thomas remembered her face from the news reports on Teresa’s disappearance.

Teresa’s mother shoved Thomas to one side and threw a coat at the girl, who was still lying on the ground. “Get up and get inside.”

Teresa complied, shakily getting to her feet and pulling the coat on. She stepped out of the shed, wincing as her bare feet made contact with the snow. Her mother placed her hand on Teresa’s back and began to guide her towards the house.

“Hey, wait!” Thomas yelled after them.

They stopped walking.

“How did Teresa get those bruises?”

Teresa’s mother leant down to Teresa’s level, running a hand through her daughter’s hair. “Go on, you can tell him.”

“...I fell.”

Teresa didn’t look back as her mother took her inside. She just kept walking.

There wasn’t anything that Thomas could do other than watch.

  
  


He knew it was cowardly, but he didn’t seek Teresa out again over the weekend. He hated himself a little as he stayed in his room, staring up at the ceiling, but what could he actually do? Teresa could have been getting hurt at that exact moment, but Thomas was stuck with the body of a 10 year old. It wasn’t like he could physically step in to defend her. Although he wanted to. He really wanted to. He knew that nothing would bring him more joy than wiping that smile off of her mother’s face himself, with his own bare hands.

If he had looked his age, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

His mother seemed to be able to tell that something was wrong, but didn’t ask him about it. Thomas appreciated that. She’d always believed that if she gave Thomas the space he needed to work something out, then he’d tell her about it in his own time. Now, more than ever before, Thomas was thankful for this.

He eventually ended up asking her something on Sunday night.

“I think that a friend of mine’s in trouble. They haven’t done anything wrong. It’s not their fault that the thing’s happened. But they’re in a really bad situation and I don’t know what I can do to get them out of it.”

“You want to help them?”

“Yes! More than anything!”

She thought for a bit, then said, “Would telling your class teacher about it be a good idea? Or is this one of those ‘snitches get stitches’ situations?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, it isn’t.” He considered it. “That’s actually a really good idea!”

She chuckled. “I’m glad I could help.”


	11. Chapter 11

Thomas was the first person to get to school on Monday morning.

Because of the snow, the kids were allowed to go straight inside to warm up. Thomas sat in his seat with his coat still on. The classroom hadn’t had a chance to warm up properly yet.

The door opened and Thomas spun his head to look, hoping against hope that Teresa would be the one walking in.

No such luck. It was Alby, Newt, and Sonya.

“Hi Tommy,” said Newt as he walked to his seat. “You’re here early.”

Thomas waved hello back. “I woke up early and got bored.”

Newt shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Alby started to take his coat off, only to pull it straight back on. “How come it’s colder in here than it is outside?”

Newt unwrapped his scarf and draped it over the back of his chair. “I dunno mate. Why are you asking me?”

Harriet walked in and Sonya stopped listening to the boys’ conversation, instead rushing to greet her friend.

Alby huffed and crossed his arms. “You know what I meant! It was a general statement. I wasn’t actually asking you!”

Gradually, the rest of the class arrived, all complaining about the cold.

Except Teresa.

She didn’t appear until the first lesson of the day was nearly over. Mr Janson was right in the middle of explaining something about circles (Thomas wasn’t listening, he already knew all of this) when the classroom door opened.

The room fell silent.

Teresa stood in the doorway, looking down at her feet.

“It’s okay,” Mr Janson said. “Come in and take your seat.”

He continued on with the lesson, taking most of the children’s attention off of her. Not Thomas’, however. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on her as she made her way to her chair.

She was wearing dark tights today. Thomas couldn’t see any bruises through them, which was probably the idea. He could see something through her hair on the back of her neck, though.

When the lesson was over and break started, Thomas decided that he needed to talk to Mr Janson as soon as possible. He quickly walked to the desk at the front.

“Yes, Thomas? What can I do for you?”

“Can I talk to you in private, sir?”

“Of course,” he put down the workbook that he’d been marking. “Shall we go outside?”

Thomas nodded and followed him out to the empty corridor.

“Sir, don’t you think it’s strange that Teresa’s always late or absent on Mondays?”

“Yes, I had noticed that.” He frowned. “Why are you asking me about it?”

“I think it’s because her mother beats her up over the weekend.”

Mr Janson nodded solemnly. “So you know all about that?”

Thomas’ mouth dropped open. “You knew? Why haven’t you said anything?!”

“You see how the other kids ignore her. I thought that if they found out what was going on then they might tease her about it.”

“They wouldn’t do that! And besides, I wasn’t talking about the kids.”

Mr Janson chuckled, probably at himself. “Of course you weren’t.” He sighed. “Seeing as you’re her friend I’ll tell you everything I know. But you can’t tell anyone else, okay?” Thomas nodded. “I first suspected that Ms Paige, that’s Teresa’s mother, was abusing her daughter in last May. In fact, I’m sure of it. But Child Protective Services need to confirm it themselves before any real action can be taken. They’ve tried to visit the household three times now, but Ms Paige and Teresa were never home. She must have found out they were coming somehow.”

“What a bunch of useless people.” Thomas only realised that he was speaking out loud when he was midway through the last word.

“Yes, quite.” Mr Janson looked very seriously into Thomas’ eyes. “They’re planning to try again in a few weeks. Hopefully they’ll be home this time. Although, you should know that when they do take Teresa away from her mother, she probably won’t be coming back to school here.”

“That’s fine. All that matters is that she’s safe.”

Mr Janson smiled. “That’s good to hear.” He checked his watch. “Come on, break’s nearly over.” He paused with his hand on the door handle. “Please remember, you can’t tell anyone else about this.”

“Don’t worry sir, I won’t.”

Mr Janson nodded, and they both reentered the classroom.

 

You would think that a 29 year old would be able to keep track of their things.

Mr Janson had asked if anyone was willing to help him out that day with collecting the other kids’ lunch money and tidying the classroom up after school. Apparently there was a meeting being held in there and Mr Janson wouldn’t have time to reorganise the desks. So Thomas had volunteered, along with Teresa. They both lived close to the school, and Teresa wasn’t going to be going straight home anyway, so it didn’t make much difference to them. And Thomas had thought that he could be trusted to handle the money, what with being an adult and all.

Apparently not. It was lunchtime and the money was nowhere to be found.

Cursing interally, Thomas stood with his hand in the air.

“Mr Janson?” The teacher nodded for him to continue. “I can’t find the lunch money.”

The chatter of the other kids that had surrounded him dropped away. Everyone was staring at him. He shrank a little under their gaze, but completely understood. He would’ve done the same thing had he been in their position.

The person sat next to him stood.

Thomas turned, expecting to see Newt or Minho. He was surprised to see that apparently Beth hadn’t rushed over to join her friends the moment she was allowed to. She took a deep breath and said, “I don’t think Thomas lost the money. I think somebody stole it.” A nasty sneer appeared on her face for a moment, then disappeared as if it was never there. “And I have a feeling that somebody is Teresa.” Gasps went up around the room. Beth only shrugged, nonchalantly looking out of the window. “She doesn’t have to pay for school meals like the rest of us do. It makes sense that the thief would be somebody who’s poor.”

Gally decided to join in, hesitantly saying, “Why don’t we all check our bags? Whoever’s got the money must have taken it.”

“Yes!” Beth all but yelled. “Everybody check your bags! And the person’s next to you!”

Thomas stood in disbelief as most of the children started rummaging around in their bags, chatting to one another as they did so. He had _so_ not intended for this to happen. Nothing like this had happened the first time around, but then again he hadn’t volunteered to help when he was a kid.

Teresa reached her hand into her bag and pulled out a bundle of envelopes.

“Found it.” Her voice was dull, as if she’d been expecting it.

Suddenly everyone was shouting, jeering. They pointed and yelled at her and although Thomas couldn’t see her face, he saw her start to curl in on herself.

He couldn’t bare it if she started to cry.

He whipped his head towards the girl standing next to him. The girl who’d started it. She had a wild grin on her face, and was declaring loudly about how she’d been right to accuse Teresa, _of course_ it had been her.

Thomas saw red.

He slammed his hand down on the desk. “SHUT UP!”

Everyone fell silent again.

“It doesn’t matter how poor she is! Teresa would never steal anything from anyone!”

Beth stared at Thomas, her arm still pointing at Teresa like it had been before she was yelled at.

“You know,” another voice, Newt’s, spoke up, this time at a much more reasonable volume, “anyone could have taken the money and planted it in Teresa’s bag.”

Mr Janson clapped sharply to regain his class’ attention. “Remember, Teresa was helping Thomas collect the money, so of course she’d have it. Beth, Thomas, it’s over.” He surveyed the room. “Okay, everyone, back to lunch.”

Beth dropped down into her seat. Thomas was pretty sure that there were tears in her eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. So what if the little brat was upset? She’d brought it entirely on herself.

Thomas grabbed his food and went over to Newt’s desk.

“Thanks,” he said as he sat next to him.

“What for?”

“Speaking up for Teresa.”

“It’s nothing.” Newt smiled. “Beth was being a complete slinthead. Teresa didn’t deserve that.”

“She didn’t. Thanks anyway.”

“It’s alright, Tommy.”

 

Thomas and Teresa stayed behind after school to tidy and rearrange the classroom ready for the meeting. They nearly did the whole thing without speaking a word to each other. Thomas kept wanting to say something, but had no idea what.

Finally, as they dragged the last desk to the side, Teresa spoke up. “Thank you for earlier.”

“You don’t need to thank me, she was being way out of line!” Thomas pushed the last two chairs into place. “What’s her issue with you anyway?”

Teresa grinned. She actually grinned. “A couple of years ago, she made fun of my pencils, because they were small. So I took her new mechanical one and threw it out of a window. She’s hated me ever since.” The smile disappeared. “Last year she invited me to her Christmas party. I thought she and I could finally make up, but it turned out that she just wanted to show off how big her family’s tree was.” She picked up her coat and began to put it on. “It was really pretty though,” she added in a soft voice.

Thomas had an idea.

“Hey, if you’re not going straight home, how about you hang out with me for a bit longer? There’s something I want to show you.”

Teresa finished fastening her coat and turned to face him.

She nodded. “Okay. Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: as i was doing the final proofread of this chapter, i saw that instead of 'Thomas grabbed his food and went over to Newt’s desk' i'd written 'Thomas grabbed his foot and went over to Newt’s desk' and somehow not noticed until now. just thought i'd share that, seeing as it made me laugh : D


	12. Chapter 12

“Where are we going?”

“Just follow me,” said Thomas as they walked out of the school.

The sky was getting darker and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. They were still in the centre of town, so there weren’t any stars visible. But hopefully there would be where they were going.

Thomas led Teresa out to the edge of town, where houses gave way to fields and woodland.

Teresa stopped short. “You can’t be asking me to go in there!”

They were standing at the threshold of the woods. A thin path, that had probably been formed by Thomas himself, wound its way inside. Thomas had loved this place as a kid. He’d first found it during the summer when he was seven, and it had quickly become his own personal place to get away. Most of the other kids were convinced that the woods were haunted and so wouldn't dare approach them. Thomas knew better. He was fine with other people not liking it, though. It meant that he wouldn’t be disturbed. That it was secure. The only other people he’d told about it were his mother and Newt. He’d told his mother so that she wouldn’t worry about where he was whenever he needed that time alone. He’d told Newt about it the year before, when they were nine, because he was the person that Thomas had trusted the most. He’d wanted him to know about it. Newt hadn’t come with him very often, though. He’d understood that Thomas wanted to keep this little piece of magic mostly to himself.

The woods had been ruined for him after the murders, the first time. The police had all but destroyed it in their search for the bodies.

“Yep!” Thomas said. “We’re going in there.”

“But we can’t” Teresa took a step back. “We’re not allowed.”

“Says who?”

“Thomas, please!”

“It’s not really haunted, if that’s what you’re worried about. I come here all the time, and I haven’t seen a ghost even once.”

“That’s because they’re lulling you into a false sense of security!” She huffed and crossed her arms.

“Teresa, come on, I’ve been coming out here on my own for years. If any ghosts were gonna get me then surely they’d have done it by now?”

She shook her head, although Thomas was sure he could see an amused glint in her eye. “Maybe they figured you weren’t worth their time and were waiting for you to bring more people? If we go in together then they’re definitely going to get us!”

Thomas laughed. “Nope! If that were true then they’d have taken Newt and I when I brought him here before.”

Her smile dimmed slightly. “You brought Newt here?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. Not often.” He didn’t know why she seemed less happy after hearing that Newt had been here, but wanted to fix it, so added, “This place is really special to me, so I want my closest friends to know about it, too.”

Teresa’s mouth dropped open, having caught the meaning in his words, the he considered _her_ to be one of his closest friends. He couldn’t quite tell, but he thought that there might have even been tears in her eyes.

She recovered quickly and said, “What about Minho? Isn’t he one of your best friends?”

“Yeah, but he can’t keep a secret. The whole school would know about it within a day. And before you ask, I’m not as close with the other two.”

She thought for a second, and said, “What if the ghosts already took you, and I’m not talking to the real you but you’re actually a ghost copy designed to lure kids in so that _they_ can be taken too?”

So she was going back to the ghost debate. Thomas laughed, darted forwards, and grabbed her hand with his own. “There, you see? I’m completely solid. A ghost wouldn’t be.”

Her eyes widened. She blushed a little. “You don’t know that. Ghosts could be solid.”

Thomas shrugged. “I guess you’re right about that. I don’t know for certain. And that just proves that I’m not a ghost because if I was one then I would know for sure.”

“You could just be a very stupid ghost.”

“I wouldn’t be smart enough to lure you in then, would I?”

Teresa sighed good naturedly. “Fine, I accept than you’re not a ghost.” She paused in thought. “What if the ghosts only target girls, and that’s why you and Newt were safe?”

“If that’s the case, then I’ll protect you.”

Teresa ripped her hand out of Thomas’. “I can handle myself, thanks!” She began storming off into the trees.

Thomas ran around her, blocking her way. “I’m sure you can! But, seeing as I know the way and where we’re going, maybe I should lead?”

“Oh.” Teresa nodded. “Yeah, you should.”

Thomas followed his own path, checking behind him every minute or so that Teresa was still there and hadn’t got lost or stuck. She was fine, of course, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure.

Their progress slowed as the trees got thicker. Thomas was careful to hold branches back so that Teresa could get through more easily. The ground beneath them had less snow on it than it had outside of the woods because it hadn’t been able to get through the masses of leaves above. This area always made Thomas understand a little how this section of woodland had gained its reputation. They just needed to persevere for a little longer...

They finally reached the clearing.

It wasn’t very big, only about twice the size of their school’s sports hall. The snow had been able to fall unhindered and untouched, almost sparkling in the moonlight. In the dead centre of the clearing stood a single tree. And what a tree it was. It was taller than any other tree around. Each branch had a dusting of snow and shards of ice hanging off of it, glinting a pale blue colour. The backdrop of stars in the night sky, for there was hardly any light pollution here, made for a truly breathtaking sight.

They stood at the edge of the clearing, just out of the blanket of snow’s reach, and stared.

“Wow,” Teresa eventually said. “It’s beautiful.”

“I know, right?” Thomas grinned. “And there aren’t any ghosts.”

“There could still be ghosts.” She smiled. “I can see why you like it here though.”

“Do you want to get closer?”

She shook her head. “Our footprints would ruin it.”

“Probably,” he agreed. He nudged her with his shoulder. “This Christmas tree is way better than Beth’s, right?”

Teresa laughed. “Don’t be dumb. It’s February.”

“But it’s still better?”

She smiled even wider. “Yes. Beth’s Christmas tree had nothing on this one.”

Thomas turned to look at her properly. “This place is great in summer, too. The grass grows long and there are flowers everywhere. And nobody else ever comes here, so it’s really peaceful.”

“Like a safe haven...” she murmured, still staring at the tree.

“Exactly.”

Teresa took a deep breath. In, then out. She watched the fog escape from her mouth. “We should go back.” she finally broke her gaze and looked at Thomas. “It’s getting kinda late. Your mum will be worried.”

Much as Thomas wished otherwise, she was right. His mother _would_ start to worry if he was out for too much longer.

They turned around and walked back the way they came, again with Thomas leading. Neither of them said a word until they reached the other side.

“Hey, Tom?”

Thomas stopped walking, surprised at the nickname. Nobody had ever called him that before. He faced her. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For sharing that with me. And for being my friend.”

Thomas smiled. “You don’t need to thank me. Although, maybe you could sit with me and the others during break and lunch tomorrow?”

Teresa smiled back. “I’ll consider it.”

They walked back into town in a comfortable silence.


	13. Chapter 13

“Hey, mum?”

Thomas’ mother looked up from her food. “What is it?”

“I was wondering if I could go to the science museum on Saturday?”

“On your own?”

“No, I was going to ask some friends to come along too.”

“Why wait until Saturday? You could just go after school tomorrow.”

He finished chewing his mouthful of food and swallowed. “We could, but we’ll be able to stay longer if we go on Saturday. I was hoping to be there for most of the day.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it going to be a date?”

“What? No! I’ll be with friends! You know, Newt and the others.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t a date.”

Thomas slumped in his seat. “Why does everyone keep saying I have a crush on Teresa? I don’t!”

“That’s not who I- Teresa? Do you mean Teresa Agnes? From a few streets over?”

Thomas nodded. “She’s my friend.”

“You haven’t mentioned her much.”

“I literally told you about her the other day.”

“And she’s invited to the museum?”

He nodded again.

“And you definitely don’t have a crush on her?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “No, mum, I don’t.”

She chuckled. “Yes, you absolutely can go to the science museum. Was there something specific you wanted to look at or learn about?”

“Not really. I just think it could be fun.”

She smiled. “Well, I hope you enjoy.”

  
  


Beth didn’t rush to join her friends once break started.

Harriet, Miyoko, and Sonya all crowded around Mr Janson’s desk at the front, asking him if he could go over something again. Normally Beth would be right there with them. Instead, she just stayed slumped in her chair with her her head in her hands.

Thomas’ friends usually joined him at his desk during break. Newt had already reached him, and was standing in the aisle next to where Beth was sitting, waiting for her to move.

She didn’t show any sign she was going to.

“You okay?” asked Thomas. “Why aren’t you going to see your friends?”

She shrugged. “They all think I’m a thief. I bet you do too.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say. He’d be lying if he said that wasn’t true. He was pretty sure that she’d been the one to move the money into Teresa’s bag the day before, in a nasty attempt to get her into trouble.

His pause gave her all the confirmation she needed. “Yeah, I thought so.” She buried her head in her arms.

Thomas caught Newt’s eye and stood. They walked to the rest of their group and herded them to the back of the classroom. He looked around for Teresa but couldn’t see her. She must have gone to the loo or something.

“What’s up with her that we have to move from out spot?” asked Alby.

“She thinks that her friends hate her,” said Newt.

“And do they?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far, but they aren’t friends right now.” Newt sighed. “Sonya wouldn’t shut up about it yesterday. She kept going on about how she couldn’t believe she’d been friends with someone who could be so mean and spiteful.”

“The stunt with the lunch money was  _ really _ mean though, so I don’t blame them.” Siggy leant back against the classroom wall. “Who’d want to be friends with her after that?”

The classroom door opened.

“Hey, Teresa!” Thomas called out. “Over here!”

She looked up at the group in surprise. Hesitantly, she walked over to join them. “Hi,” she said quietly.

They chorused back various hellos, all smiling.

“Do you need me to tell you their names?” Thomas asked.

Teresa rolled her eyes. “We’ve all been in the same class for over six years, Tom.”

Thomas grinned. “I know. I was mostly kidding.”

“Mostly?”

“Because you’re so quiet, sometimes it’s kinda like you’re not even here.” Minho jumped in. “I’m pretty sure that before yesterday I was half convinced that you didn’t talk at all.”

Teresa pulled herself up straight. “I  _ can  _ talk! I just usually choose not to.”

“Why?” asked Siggy.

Uncertainty, maybe even fear, flashed in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “I have my reasons.”

“Ooooh, you’re going for the mysterious vibe?” Minho laughed good-naturedly. “I like it.”

Teresa’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I’m not trying to be mysterious...”

Newt had already smacked Minho softly on the back of the head. “Slim it, Minho. She’s Tommy’s friend, so don’t be such a slinthead you scare her off, good that?”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“Good that?” Newt repeated.

Minho sighed. “Okay, fine, I’ll try, good that.”

Teresa just looked even more confused.

“We kinda have our own phrases we made up,” said Thomas, trying to explain. “Don’t worry about it too much, you don’t have to use them if you don’t want to.”

“Okay, but I have no idea what Newt meant just now.”

The boys laughed. Newt said, “I told him to shut up and stop saying stuff that might make you not want to be friends with us.”

“You could have just said that?”

“True, but it’s more fun to use the words we invented.”

Teresa thought for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough.”

“So, I was thinking,” said Thomas, changing the subject, “How about we all go to the science museum on Saturday? It’s been a while since we did something as a group.”

Siggy opened his mouth to respond, but Minho kicked him in the ankle before saying, “Sorry Thomas. I’m super busy Saturday. Like really busy. There’s no way I’m gonna make it.”

Siggy’s eyes widened in realisation. “Uh, yeah, me too, sorry.”

“Same here,” said Alby.

Newt looked at Thomas apologetically. “I already said that I’d help Sonya with something, and if I bail on her she’ll probably actually kill me.”

“You could just bring her along? I don’t mind.”

Newt shook his head. “I can’t. I’m really sorry.”

Thomas turned to Teresa. “But you can come, right?”

She looked at the ground. “My mum likes me to get home early on Saturdays.”

“But there isn’t actually a  _ reason  _ why you can’t come?”

Teresa shook her head. “But if most of us can’t go then what’s the point?”

“We can still have fun, even if these shanks insist on ditching us.” Thomas glared at the rest of his friends, but there wasn’t any real heat behind it.

Teresa smiled sadly. “I’d love to go, but there’s no way my mum’ll let me.”

Thomas shrugged. “We can go ask her after school today.”

Teresa’s eyes widened. “Tom, that isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?” The way Thomas figured it, asking if Teresa could go wouldn’t make her situation any worse than it already was. They might even get pleasantly surprised.

“Trust me, it just is.”

“Would more people being there when you ask help?” Newt chimed in. “I could drag Sonya along.”

“No, it’s okay Newt, don’t worry about it.” Thomas didn’t want to get Newt too heavily involved. If something did go wrong, because he wasn’t so stupid as to not be aware that that was a possibility, then he didn’t want more people than absolutely necessary to be in the firing line. Having Newt and Sonya around would only put them at risk.

Newt didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”

With that, Mr Janson called out to the class that break was over, and they all retook their seats.


	14. Chapter 14

Thomas and Teresa stood facing the house door.

“I still don’t know how you talked me into this.”

“We don’t really have anything to lose by asking her.”

“I know.”

They continued to stare at the door.

“I’m not usually home this early.” Teresa took a small step backwards. “We could come back later?”

“We’d forget to ask her.” Thomas reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll do all the talking, don’t worry.”

Teresa looked fearfully into his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Thomas repeated, and he knocked on the door.

As it clicked open Teresa ripped her hand out of Thomas’ and shoved it into her coat pocket, clearly not wanting her mother to see.

Teresa’s mother’s hair hung loose today, reaching her shoulders. She did not look happy to see her daughter, and seemed even more displeased when her gaze shifted to the boy standing beside her.

Thomas gulped and pulled himself to his full height, which in truth wasn’t very tall at all, but the action made him feel more confident about what he was about to say.

“Hi Ms Paige, I’m a friend of Teresa’s, and I was wondering if she would be allowed to come with me to the science museum on Saturday.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you want to go there?”

“Because it’s fun and also it’s educational.”

She didn’t look convinced. “But why would you want to go with _her?_ She’s just a gloomy little girl.”

“That doesn’t matter to me. I just want to keep her safe.”

Teresa’s mother looked at him sharply. “Safe from what?” Thomas didn’t respond. He didn’t have a good answer. “She can’t go, anyway. Teresa helps me around the house on Saturdays.”

“Doing what, exactly?” Okay, he might have snapped a little there. He was honestly trying to be as polite as possible with her, but that was the most bullshit thing he’d ever heard. Teresa only ‘helped around the house’ if your definition of doing so was by being used as a literal punching bag.

“That’s none of your business! Teresa, inside!” She turned and walked a few steps back into her house before realising that Teresa wasn’t following her. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t tell me you actually want to go to the museum with him?”

Slowly, Teresa nodded.

Her mother did not like that at all. Her face twisted and she took in a deep breath as if she was about to start yelling, and her right fist clenched tightly and began to rise. Then she stopped, having spotted something behind the kids.

Thomas spun around to see his mother walking towards them. She positioned herself just in front of Thomas, subtly placing herself between him and Teresa, and Teresa’s mother.

“Hi,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Mary, Thomas’ mother.”

“Ava,” Teresa’s mother responded stiffly, ignoring the hand, choosing to fold her arms instead. Thomas’ mother shrugged and put her arm down.

“I think it’s wonderful that our kids are planning a day out to the science museum,” Thomas’s mother said smoothly. “We should be encouraging them to take an interest in these things outside of school. We are their parents, after all.”

Teresa’s mother said nothing.

Thomas’ mother sighed. “Look, I’m a single mother too. I understand what it’s like. You can call or come over any time if you want to talk.”

Teresa’s mother stared at her for a moment, then suddenly shifted her gaze to her daughter. “Come on, inside.”

Teresa nodded and stepped through the door.

“I- I’ll see you tomorrow.” said Thomas.

Teresa nodded as the door shut.

Thomas’ mother turned to face him. “Did I just screw everything up?”

“No, you were great. Thanks.”

They were halfway home when she said, “I wouldn’t worry too much about Teresa tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Did you see how nice her clothes are? Ms Paige goes to a lot of effort to keep her daughter looking presentable. She’ll be fine tonight.”

“Mum, do you....” Thomas struggled to find the right way to phrase it. “Do you know what goes on in there?”

“I didn’t. Not until today. This science trip is a ploy to get her out of the house, isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is.”

She smiled. “You’re doing a good thing, kiddo. Just tell me if you need me to help or step in, okay?”

“Okay mum, I will.”

  


The next morning, Thomas realised just how worried he’d actually been when he saw Teresa arrive at school on time, looking no worse for wear. As she walked into the classroom and joined their group, Thomas relaxed and gave a huge sigh of relief.

“You alright, Tommy?” Of course Newt had noticed.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He turned to Teresa. “So you can come on Saturday, right?”

She smiled. “Yes, she said I could go. Thanks Tom.”

Minho smirked. “So it’s just going to be the two of you? Alone?”

Thomas sighed. “Well, duh. The rest of you said you can’t come, remember?”

Minho waggled his eyebrows. “If it’s just the two of you then doesn’t that sound like a-”

He was interrupted by Newt grabbing both Thomas and Teresa by their wrists and dragging them away, ignoring Minho’s yells of protest.

Newt let them go once they’d reached Teresa’s desk. “Sorry about that slinthead. He clearly doesn’t know when to let go.”

Teresa gave a small laugh. “Is he always like that?”

“Yes. He’s awful.” Newt rolled his eyes. “A couple of years ago he convinced himself that I had a crush on Harriet because she was round my house so much. Never mind that she’s Sonya’s best friend. He’s the worst.”

Teresa raised an eyebrow. “But still your friend?”

Newt and Thomas shared a glance and laughed. “He’s like the brother that I didn’t ask for, but got anyway.” Newt smiled. “Besides, somebody here’s gotta keep Tommy wanting to run faster. He already knows he can’t beat me, but Minho being about the same speed keeps him motivated.”

Thomas shoved him lightly. “Slim it, shank.” Some more laughter managed to escape with his words.

“Anyway,” Newt turned to face Teresa properly, his face and voice suddenly serious, “if Minho’s actually annoying you, then you _can_ tell him to stop. He’s just joking around, and he wouldn’t want to end up upsetting you. Or any of us, for that matter. He really will stop if you want him to.”

Teresa smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so this is officially the longest thing i've ever posted on this site. that's kinda cool. and this is nowhere near done yet : D


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao my c4 maths mock do not go well so here have another chapter. i was gonna upload this tomorrow but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The next day was Wednesday, and once again running club had been cancelled because of the snow and ice. Newt made no moves to get out of his seat in the classroom, waving goodbye to Alby and Siggy as they left. Thomas had to run across the classroom to block Teresa from walking out of the door.

“You’re not going straight home, right?”

She shook her head. “I was going to go to the park or something.”

“You could stay here with us instead.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion.

Thomas explained. “Newt needs to wait for Sonya to finish choir. I’m going to stay here, keep him company. You’re more than welcome to join us. It’ll definitely be warmer than the park.”

They walked over to Newt’s desk. Most of the rest of the class had cleared out by now, all except Minho. He was sitting on the desk in front of Newt’s, swinging his legs back and forth. Thomas sat in the empty seat next to Newt.

“Hey Minho. You staying then?”

“Yeah. Newt told me that you spent last week doodling, which is super lame and clearly you need someone cool like me to guide you down the right path.” He shifted along the desk and gestured for Teresa to join him in sitting on it, which she did.

“I don’t think that spending time drawing is lame,” said Thomas. He really didn’t. The page of sketches and doodles that Newt had given him the previous week had been carefully stuck up on his bedroom wall, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face. It had already helped him a lot.

Newt just caught Thomas’ eye and smiled somewhat mischievously. “Surely the more important point here is that Minho actually thinks he’s cool.”

Everyone except Minho burst out laughing. Even Teresa.

“I am!” More laughter. “I am and I can prove it!”

Newt gestured for him to get on with it.

“My coat is pink, which just goes to show that I’m not afraid to like what I like. Also, I’m one of the fastest runners in the school. Gally’s a slinthead so he doesn’t count. Thomas, you’re too much of a dork to be cool. And Newt, you might be _the_ fastest, but you don’t actually care about sports at all. You just go because we’re there and because Sonya’s in a club on the same day. You spend most of your free time hiding in a corner drawing, which really isn’t considered cool, dude. It won’t make girls like you.”

“That’s not always true,” Teresa interrupted. “Some girls like quiet boys. Some don’t. Everyone’s different.”

Newt shrugged. “I’m not all that fussed about what’ll make a girl fancy me, anyway.”

“Also,” said Minho, eager to get back on topic, “I have really good hair. And I make people laugh! People like me, so I must be cool.”

“Gally doesn’t like you,” said Thomas.

“Gally’s a slinthead so doesn’t count, keep up Tommy.” Newt was grinning as he turned back to Minho. “You think you have good hair?”

“Well it’s definitely better than Thomas’.”

Thomas did not care about whether his 10 year old self had good hair or not, but apparently Newt and Teresa did. They both jumped to his defense.

“Tom’s hair isn’t bad, so don’t say it like that!”

“Nah, mate, Tommy’s hair’s way better than yours.”

Minho held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it, I’ll leave your crush alone.”

Teresa pushed Minho off the desk.

  


School was closed completely on Thursday. Snow had been falling nonstop the whole night, so all of the roads were blocked. The kids all lived near enough that they could walk in if they had to, but it was pretty pointless if there wasn’t anybody there to teach them.

Thomas had forgotten about this. Usually Glade Primary would try to stay open no matter what happened. The kids had used to joke that the apocalypse itself could come and they would still be expected to be in class learning about shapes. That was what he remembered about his school’s relationship with the snow. Nothing that he’d done differently could have affected this, though, so he figured that he must have just forgotten about it. That made sense. He had, after all, spent 18 years trying to forget about everything surrounding this period in his life.

He was only half dressed, still wearing his pyjama top, when there was a knock at the front door. As he heard his mother open it and talk to whoever was there, he hurriedly tried to change into a t-shirt. He succeeded in getting the pyjama top stuck over his head. He stood there, struggling, as he heard several footsteps headed towards his room. His bedroom door opened.

They laughed at him.

“Need help, Tommy?”

Thomas could _hear_ the grin in the little shit’s voice. He freed himself with just a couple more seconds and threw the offending article onto his bed, snatching up his chosen t-shirt in one fluid motion.

“No. I’m good.” He pulled it on and turned to face his friends. The four boys were bundled up in thick coats, scarves, and gloves. Newt had a pair of black earmuffs hanging around his neck. “Let me just grab my coat and we can go.”

Within a few minutes the five boys practically tumbled out of the door. Thomas was pretty sure that Minho was actually physically vibrating with excitement.

Sonya, Harriet and Miyoko joined the group as they moved away from Thomas’ apartment. They must have been waiting outside. And damn, they must have really been serious about cutting Beth out of their group to not bring her along on their snow day activities.

Thomas decided not to worry about it.

“Teresa lives this way, right?” Alby called over his shoulder, having already started walking down the street.

Thomas and the others all ran to catch up and directed him to the right house.

The snow by the front door was pristine. Nobody had approached or left yet. There weren’t any obvious signs of life coming from the house. No lights, so sounds, no anything.

“Maybe they’re still asleep?” said Siggy.

“School was supposed to have started half an hour ago,” said Harriet. “She’ll definitely be awake by now even if her mum isn’t.”

“She might’ve gone back to bed.” Sonya sighed. “I know I would’ve if my brother wasn’t such a-”

“Slim it Sonne, you’d only have complained if I’d left you.”

_“I don’t even know what that means!”_

Thomas squared his shoulders and stepped forwards. The twins stopped squabbling and watched as Thomas walked up to the door and knocked decisively.

A minute passed in silence. Then, the door slowly opened.

Teresa wasn’t in her pyjamas, but wasn’t dressed to come out in the snow either. She looked surprised to see them.

“We’re going to the park. Then we’ll go somewhere warm. Wanna join?”

She nodded, and pushed the door so that it was almost closed. She re-appeared half a minute later with her coat and boots on.

“Lead the way.”

When they reached the park there were already a few groups of younger children dotted around with their parents, but that didn’t matter. The park was more than big enough for everyone.

“So,” said Miyoko, “we’re here. Now what?”

Sonya answered that question by scooping up some snow and pulling on Newt’s collar, dropping it down his back. He retaliated without hesitation, tackling her so she fell face first into the snow.

“So,” said Minho, a shit-eating grin on his face, “snowball fight? Girls versus boys?”

“That puts you at an advantage, though.” Harriet pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and continued. “There are five of you and only four of us.”

If they’d had Beth with them then the teams would be even, but Thomas decided that it wouldn’t be a great idea to point that out.

Sonya’s head popped up from where Newt had been trying to bury her in the snow. “Does it matter? We’ll all just end up throwing snow at each other anyway.”

Newt dropped more snow onto the top of her head and she yelped, unsuccessfully trying to struggle out of his grasp.

Alby, with a faint smile on his face, grabbed some snow and formed it into a ball. He threw it at Harriet’s head.

Dead on target.

There was a tense moment of silence. Then the snowballs started flying.

Thomas was slightly slower to react than the others, taking at least two separate snowballs to the face before he managed to throw his first one. He didn’t even see who he threw it at, just chucked it before the wet cold could kill his ungloved hand.

“Hey! What happened to the teams?!”

Thomas wasn’t sure who had just yelled that. At a guess, it was Minho, but it could have been anyone. Except Teresa. She was stood just to Thomas’ left, watching, looking _far_ too innocent.

He fully expected the snow that slid down his back moments later and swiftly paid her back in kind.

Eventually they got bored of hurling snow at each other, and the group decided to build a snowman instead. Siggy graciously donated some chocolate buttons he had in his pocket to the cause, giving it its eyes, mouth, and some buttons down the front. Newt and Sonya found some twigs to function as arms, and when nobody could think of how to give it a nose Minho just poked a deep hole in the middle of the face.

They stepped back to admire their creation.

“It’s a shame,” said Teresa.

“What is?” asked Minho.

“We worked really hard on it, but it’ll be gone soon.”

Minho shrugged. “Yeah, but not _soon_ soon. It’ll last longer than the rest of the snow, and that’s gonna continue for at least another week.”

“I know, it’s just...” she trailed off.

“Making you uncomfortably aware of your own mortality?” Sonya had a teasing tone to her voice.

“Get you, with your fancy words and big concepts,” Newt said, rolling his eyes. “Do you even know what that means?”

“Yes! You’re not the only one who reads, you know.”

Teresa laughed, the sombre moment broken by the twins’ bickering. “I’m guessing that was a real word then? Not something you made up?”

“To be ‘mortal’ means you’re going to die one day. Having ‘mortality’ means the same thing,” Sonya explained, a proud look on her face.

“Which is such a cheery thing to talk about,” said Newt. “We were having fun!”

“No, it’s okay.” Teresa paused for a moment. “I think she was right about the snowman making me think about it. At least a little, anyway.”

“Wow,” Minho shook his head in disbelief, “what is up with you shanks that making a snowman made you think about klunk like that?”

Sonya and Teresa just shrugged.

Thomas didn’t trust himself to add anything to the conversation.

Then Siggy and Miyoko started to complain that they were cold and wet and could the group _please_ go inside now?


	16. Chapter 16

Newt and Sonya’s house was closest, so the group hurriedly made their way there. Sonya dug a key out of her coat pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal that nobody else was home. She stood in the doorway for a moment, stomping her boots on the ground to get as much snow off as possible, before stepping inside and immediately pulling them off. She placed them down next to the wall about a meter away from the door.

She turned back to the rest of the group, pointing at where she’d placed the boots. “Make sure to take yours off before you reach that point, okay?” When the others agreed, she moved out of the way so that they could get in as well and started to take her coat off.

Soon the hallway was full with nine children trying to get out of their coats and hats and gloves and whatever else they had, all trying to put them somewhere where they would be able to dry and that they’d be able to find them again. It was ever so slightly chaotic and cramped, but they somehow managed.

Sonya disappeared up the stairs, mumbling something about wanting to get changed (she  _ had _ ended up drenched, after all) while most of the rest of the kids claimed where they were sitting in the lounge. Thomas was just about to go in too when somebody grabbed his wrist, stopping him at the door.

It was Newt.

“You didn’t have any gloves, did you?”

“No I didn’t. They’re probably still at the hideout.”

Newt lifted Thomas’ wrist so they were both looking at his hand. His hand had gone extremely red and the skin was cracking a little. “I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off.” He raised an eyebrow at him. “Plus, you’re shivering.”

Thomas was. His hands were also starting to hurt. He hadn’t realised how cold the snow had truly made him until he was out of it.

“Well, yeah, Teresa put some snow down my back, so I guess I am kinda cold.”

Newt started to walk towards the stairs. He didn’t let go of Thomas’ wrist. Thomas didn’t let it turn into a drag, instead letting himself be led and following close behind. “Where are we going?”

“Sonya did the same to me so I want to get changed too. You can borrow something of mine.”

“You don’t have to do that!”

Newt glanced back with a smile. “I know, but I want to.”

They reached the top of the stairs and Newt pushed him into a bathroom. He released his hold on his wrist and began twisting a tap.

“What are you-”

Newt grabbed both of Thomas’ wrists this time and pulled him forwards. Thomas wasn’t sure what was going on when suddenly he felt the water flowing over his hands.

It was  _ warm.  _ He gave a small sigh of contented relief.

Newt chuckled. “Now, Tommy, you stay here and let your hands warm up. I’ll go grab us some t-shirts.” He left the room.

The feeling was already returning to his hands. He probably wouldn’t have thought to do this on his own, and was immensely grateful that Newt had noticed the state of his hands and had had this amazing idea.

Newt was only gone for a couple of minutes, soon returning with the promised t-shirt in hand. He’d already changed into a new one himself.

Thomas reluctantly turned the tap off and dried his hands on the towel hanging next to the sink. Newt handed the dry t-shirt over and turned around to face the wall, giving him some privacy to change.

Thomas couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time he and Newt had actually talked. Had  _ actually  _ actually talked, not in this Revival, but in the first run through of their lives. At the end of their last year of school, after all their exams were over, the Ross twins had held a massive party. Or, rather, Sonya had held the party, and Newt had been there because it was also his house. Thomas and Newt had ended up hiding together in this very bathroom.

Thomas had been more than a little drunk, so the exact details of that night were beyond his reach. They’d definitely talked. He didn’t know what else they’d done,  _ if  _ they’d done anything else. Being in this bathroom with Newt was the last thing he remembered about that night. It was certainly the longest they’d spent together since starting secondary school.

Thomas hadn’t kept in close contact with Newt after primary school, the first time around. Losing Minho had been hard on all of them, and the rest of the group had quickly reached the point where it was difficult to speak to one another. It just reminded them of who was missing. So, despite all going to the same secondary school, they’d avoided one another, only interacting when they absolutely had to. Thomas had lost track of Newt and the others completely after they left school. They’d never seen or heard from each other again.

There wasn’t any point worrying about it now. It didn’t matter anymore. If Thomas could stop the murders, then the entire direction of their lives would change. That night would probably go completely differently.

He needed to focus on what was going on right  _ now,  _ and Thomas figured that now was probably the best, maybe even only, opportunity he was going to get to talk to Newt alone in the next few days. It would be a good idea to take it. As he pulled off his damp t-shirt, he said, “So, about Saturday...”

Newt laughed. “Yes, Tommy?”

“Are you sure you can’t come? Because at the moment it’s just going to be Teresa and me and the last thing I need is Minho having more ammunition.”

“Sorry, but I really can’t. Sonya wants to go ice skating and dad said that we have to go together. If I don’t go then she can’t go either, and I seriously doubt that I’d be waking up on at all on Sunday if I did that. Because she’d have killed me in my sleep.”

“Okay, you’re forgiven. You can turn around by the way.” Thomas held up his damp shirt. “What should I do with this?”

Newt grabbed it. “I’ll put it in to be washed.”

Thomas followed him into the hallway. Newt opened a cupboard and draped the t-shirt over the edge of a large basket inside of it, that already had the tops that Newt and Sonya had been wearing earlier along it.

“What about the others? What are they doing Saturday that they can’t come to the museum?”

Newt shrugged. “They haven’t told me anything. You’d have to ask them yourself.” He caught Thomas’ eye and grinned. “There probably isn’t anything though.”

Thomas sighed. “Yeah, I figured as much. Minho just seems to think that if I spend enough time alone with her we’ll fall in love or something.”

Newt closed the cupboard door and leaned back against it. “Tell you what. If I somehow get out of skating early enough to join you guys, I will. And I’ll round up as many of those slintheads as I can and drag them along too.” He smiled. “I know this trip’s probably mostly for Teresa’s sake, but a day out with you sounds really nice.”

“Yeah, it does,” Thomas found himself agreeing automatically. “We’ll just have to do it again sometime, so that everyone can definitely come.”

Newt nodded.

Seeing Newt so at ease around him, so happy even, made Thomas’ heart sing in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed him.

“Are you two shuckfaces ever going to get down here, or do I have to drag you?” Minho’s voice called up the stairs.

Newt sighed. “We’re coming!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to say thanks to everyone who's reading this !!! when i started it i honestly didn't expect anybody else to find this interesting, so the fact that there are people reading and enjoying it means the absolute world to me !!! thank you so much !!!!!!
> 
> also there are nine people in this chapter rip me trying to keep track of them all. how tf infinity war's going to cope with so many characters at once i have no idea

The lounge had two sofas. Sonya, Harriet, and Miyoko were sitting on one, while Alby, Siggy, and Minho were sitting on the other. Teresa was sitting on the carpeted floor, leaning against the boys’ sofa.

When Minho saw that Newt and Thomas had entered the room, he grinned and shifted along the sofa, ignoring the others’ protests that he was squashing them. He looked at Newt meaningfully and gestured to the small looking space he’d created between himself and the armrest.

“There’s only room for one more. The other one’ll just have to sit on the floor.”

Newt rolled his eyes, but before he could take a step towards it, Teresa jumped up and placed herself in the gap. “Thanks Minho!”

Minho looked stunned. “I... I just...”

“You just what?” Teresa widened her eyes and brought a hand to her chest, making her voice drip with obviously exaggerated hurt. “You mean you didn’t want me to sit next to you? Are you going to kick me off the sofa?”

Everyone else laughed as Minho tried to stammer out that that was _not_ what he meant, _of course_ Teresa could sit there, he wasn’t going to kick her off, and could she _please_ stop looking at him like he’d just kicked her puppy or something.

Thomas sat on the floor in the middle of the room and grinned up at Minho. “Looks like your cunning plan failed this time.”

“What plan?” Harriet asked.

“He thinks that Tom and I are in love,” Teresa turned her head towards her and explained, all trace of hurt gone from her face and voice, “so he keeps trying to push us together.”

Minho shook his head vehemently. “I was not trying to do that.”

“Yes you were,” Alby deadpanned.

“You really aren’t subtle, mate,” added Newt, having joined Thomas on the floor.

“We could all tell.” Siggy shifted as much as he could, trying to get more comfortable in the cramped space.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Harriet asked Teresa.

“Nope. I actually think it’s pretty funny, watching him get so invested when he isn’t going to achieve anything.”

Minho stopped pretending to be innocent. “I’ll be proven right, you’ll see!”

“If you say so,” Thomas laughed. He agreed with Teresa, and was relieved she felt that way about it. Hopefully, Minho’s meddling wouldn’t extend beyond trying to get them alone together, like he was planning to on Saturday. He didn’t remember his actions ever escalating further than that.

His laughter died away as he once again realised _why_ that was the case. Minho’s romantic meddling had never escalated because he had only been 11 when he died. But he wasn’t going to die this time around. Thomas wasn’t going to let the killer, whoever they may be, get to Minho, or Teresa, or anyone else.

Which meant that, if Thomas ended up having to live the rest of his life all over again, he may well see Minho resort to more dramatic measures.

Oh well, they still had a while before puberty would hit. It wouldn’t be an issue before then. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

“So what are we gonna do now?” Miyoko asked.

“We could watch tv,” suggested Siggy.

“It’s the middle of the day, there won’t be anything good on,” Alby sighed.

“What games are good for nine people?” asked Minho.

“Who says we want to play with you guys?” asked Sonya.

Newt raised an eyebrow at her. “Go up to your room then, and let Tommy and I have the sofa.”

“No! We’re staying here!”

“Well, then you’re forced to play with us, aren’t you?”

Sonya stuck her tongue out at her brother, but didn’t protest further.

“Here’s a wild concept,” Alby twisted an arm free from where it had been trapped against Siggy’s side, “why don’t we just chat and hang out?”

Thomas stared at the sofa that the boys - and Teresa - were crammed onto. The sofas in the room were small, only being designed for two people to sit on. Three children could fit comfortably, but four clearly could not. “You guys can’t be comfortable like that. How about one of you sits down here?”

The four of them looked at Thomas like he’d suddenly sprouted large, green antennae.

“Hey, don’t diss the floor!” Newt said as he shifted so he was lying on his back, pulling Thomas down next to him. “The carpet’s clean and it’s actually pretty comfortable.”

“Even so, we’re fine here,” said Siggy. Thomas could hear the grin in his voice as he continued to say, “We wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Thomas sat up and frowned at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ignore him,” said Newt, pulling on Thomas’ arm to lie back down. He complied, quickly deciding to put what Siggy had said out of his mind. It didn’t matter. It was just a throwaway comment, what he’d meant by it wasn’t important. If Newt told him to ignore it, then he would.

The kids chatted, and joked, and laughed. They watched the snow continue to fall outside, glad that they were somewhere warm. When lunctime came, Newt and Sonya brought a loaf of bread in from the kitchen, along with an assortment of fillings, and everyone made their own sandwiches.

Of course, the four crammed onto the too-small sofa had to have everything brought to them. If any of them had gotten up, their space would’ve disappeared. Nobody wanted to have to sit on the floor.

“You shanks are lucky we’re so nice,” Newt grumbled as he and Thomas handed their plates to them.

“You love us,” Minho grinned.

Newt flicked his forehead. “Yeah, we do.”

Alas, it couldn’t last.

Minho was the first to break.

Everyone could see how much it pained him to accept defeat, but he needed to pee so it couldn’t be helped. He slid off the sofa and the other three immediately shifted so that they were no longer squashed.

He didn’t complain about it when he returned. He just sat on the floor, his back leaning against Teresa’s legs. She half-heartedly tried to kick him away, but everyone was able to tell that it was just for show, and she didn’t actually mind.

It was nice, Thomas thought, to be able to just _be_ with his friends. (And his friend’s sister’s friends, but they all got along just fine.) He found himself wishing and hoping, for the first time in over a decade, that the snow wouldn’t stop. So that the next day could be just as magical and carefree as this one had been.

 

His wish was granted. School was cancelled on Friday, too, and the group spent the day together again.


	18. Chapter 18

Thomas woke up early on Saturday morning, giddy with anticipation.

Today was the day.

Up until this point, Thomas had done quite a lot differently than he had the first time around, simply by the virtue of not truly being the child he once was. His 10 year old self had taken his mother’s presence for granted, but now he was making sure to tell her every day how much he loved her and how thankful he was for all she did. His 10 year old self hadn’t noticed Newt staying at school alone, but now he had, and he wouldn’t change the extra time spent with his friend for anything. His 10 year old self hadn’t noticed that Teresa was alone all the time, but now he'd drawn her into his friendship group, and seeing her smile and laugh filled him with hope that it would all be worth it.

His 10 year old self hadn’t known that she was being abused. But now he did, and there wasn’t much he could do himself to stop it. Not permanently at least. Something he _could_ do, though, was make sure that on the day she was most likely to get hurt, she was far away from her mother.

He knocked on Teresa’s front door.

He wasn’t particularly surprised when Ms Paige opened it. She glared down at him. He sincerely hoped that she couldn’t see through the polite smile he had plastered on. If she knew how much he hated her, then she might decide that Teresa couldn’t come after all.

After a few moments, she gave a small nod, as if satisfied with something, and opened the door wider to reveal Teresa. Thomas tried not to appear too obviously relieved as she stepped outside, her mother closing the door between them without a word.

“You good to go?” he asked.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said.

The science museum was a lot emptier than Thomas had expected. Usually it was pretty busy on Saturdays. There weren’t many places in town that families could go to spend the day together. The museum was about it, as far as that went. The snow must have kept everyone else away, though, because Thomas couldn’t see any other visitors.

He felt a strange urge to run a lap of the entry hall.

“So the others really aren’t coming?” Teresa asked, interrupting that train of thought.

“Probably not, no.” Thomas sighed. “Newt’s the only one with a real reason. He’d definitely be here if he could!”

She smiled softly. “I bet he would. I didn’t think there was anything that he’d let stop him from spending time with you.”

“Sonya wanted to go skating and their dad said she couldn’t go alone.”

Teresa paused. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense.”

“The others are just letting themselves be bullied by Minho.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to have lots of fun without them!”

They could hear their own footsteps as they walked around the empty museum. Every word of their conversation echoed slightly. Thomas couldn’t help but wonder if the exhibits were about to come to life, like they had in that film he’d seen years ago. It would be interesting to see how exactly the collection of model planets, for example, could animate themselves. It was a pity it was the middle of the day, as that was the only thing that ruined the illusion.

He had to remind himself what year it was, because he was about to share his thoughts with Teresa. That wouldn’t have gone well at all.

Except now he was stood with his face turned to her with his mouth half open and a slightly panicked look in his eye.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes? What is it?”

“I- I was just thinking about how fun it is when nobody else is here! When I come on my own I like to hide behind stuff and then when people come by, I jump out at them!” Thomas demonstrated using the case they were stood next to. Teresa looked unimpressed. “I mean,” Thomas laughed nervously, “I used to, but I haven’t done that in years.” Not technically a lie, but...

“It’s kinda creepy though, isn’t it?”

“Imagine if we were here at night.”

Teresa shuddered. “That would be awful.”

Thomas had an idea. “We totally have to do it then!”

“What?”

“Visit at night. We totally have to do that.”

Her eyes widened as she shook her head rapidly. “We can’t do that Tom! It’s closed, we’d get in trouble, and-”

Thomas laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting we break in or anything. I’m pretty sure we can hire this place out. So maybe over the summer, or even for our birthday next year, we could hire the museum overnight and have a sleepover with everyone!”

“...My mother would never let me go on a sleepover with a bunch of boys.”

“Sonya and that can come too, so it’ll be okay.”

Teresa thought for a moment. “Okay,” she said, “we should do it. Let’s make it for our birthdays next year, when we turn 12.”

Thomas grinned. “I can’t wait.”

They wondered on for a few more minutes, discussing details of what the group could do overnight in an empty museum, before stopping to look closer at one of the displays.

Thomas looked over at Teresa and suddenly felt a dizzying sense of deja vu.

He struggled not to take a physical step backwards. “Hey,” he said, “I need to go to the toilet. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

Thomas rushed off to the closet loos he could find and clutched at the sink, staring into the mirror.

What was _that_ all about?

He shook his head, hard, and splashed his face with cold water. Things were going well. He was changing history. He could do this. He could save her. Her could save them.

He dried his face and stepped back out.

Teresa had moved to the next display along. Thomas stopped just before he reached her and watched her read. Her face was lit up in fascination and he knew that the sight should be making him happy, and it was, but there was something else too. Some kind of dread that he couldn’t shake.

She turned to face him. “Tom, thanks for inviting me here. I’m really glad I came. Did you know I like coming to the museum too?”

_“It’s pretty cool that we both like to come here, huh?”_

Thomas remembered.

18 years ago, when he really was 10, he hadn’t invited Teresa to visit the science museum with him. He’d come on his own.

And so had she.

He’d ran into her there. They’d talked a little, about liking the museum, and why they were there, and wasn’t it creepy when there wasn’t anyone else around? Sure, the specifics of the dialogue had been different this time, and before there hadn’t been any birthday planning, but Thomas hadn’t actually made a meaningful change! The whole point of Revival was to change the past, but at this point he just seemed to be going through the motions.

It didn’t bode well. He _needed_ to change the past or Teresa and Minho and that other girl would die.

They started walking down the hall.

“Hey, can I carry your coat?”

“Sure.”

It was only a small thing, but it was something that was definitely different.

Teresa stopped moving, throwing out an arm to stop Thomas too. “Is that-”

“Hey shanks!”

Thomas felt a huge smile spread over his face as he heard Minho’s voice carry over towards them.

“Sorry we’re late!” called out Siggy.

“It was all Minho’s fault!” said Alby.

Newt brought up the rear. “I told you I’d drag them here if I could, didn’t I?”

Thomas laughed. “Yeah, you did. I’m glad you made it.”

This _hadn’t_ happened last time. His friends joining them at the museum was different from 18 years ago. They hadn’t been invited back then, because the trip hadn’t been planned. He’d managed to change the past already, for all these people at least. And when he calmed down enough to think about it properly, he knew that he’d already made a tremendous difference in Teresa’s life. He could do this. He was already doing this. Everything was going to be okay.

“Hey, can you carry my coat too?” Minho asked. “My arm’s getting tired.” He held his bright pink coat out for Thomas to take.

Everyone laughed as Newt said, “Don’t do it, Tommy!”

Thomas rolled his eyes, a grin on his face. “No, Minho, carry your own coat.”

“But you’re carrying Teresa’s!”

“Yeah, but according to you, I’m in love with her, so...”

Teresa laughed the loudest of them all.


	19. Chapter 19

Monday morning found Thomas sitting at his desk, nervously bouncing his leg as he waited. All of the rest of the class were trickling in, same as always. Beth hadn’t arrived yet, so her seat was currently filled by Newt, who had definitely noticed how tense Thomas was. He eyed him up with concern.

“You okay?” he eventually asked.

Before Thomas could respond, Minho hopped up onto the desk and lay down. “What he means,” he said, “is ‘slim it, shank, you’re freaking us out.’ What’s got you so worked up anyway?”

Thomas forced his leg to stop moving. “It’s nothing.”

Newt placed a hand on his shoulder. “It clearly isn’t. You can tell us, you know.”

“Hi Tom! Hey Minho, Newt!”

The three boys looked up at the new voice.

Teresa was on time to school on a Monday morning. As far as Thomas could tell, there weren’t any more injuries on her than there had already been when he’d seen her on Saturday. Getting her out of the house had worked!

He tried not to be too obviously relieved. Minho’s grin told him that he had failed.

Newt cut in before Minho could say anything. “Hi Teresa. You’re early today.”

“I’m on time.”

“For you, that’s early.”

Teresa shrugged and leaned over to look at Newt’s open sketchbook. “What’cha drawing?”

He glanced down. “I’m not sure yet.” The page was empty except for a single sketched circle in the top right corner.

“You could draw Big Ben,” suggested Minho. “That circle could be the clock face, and then you could do the rest of the building as well.”

Newt tapped his pencil against his lips in thought. “I could do that, yeah.”

He’d moved the pencil tip halfway to the page when someone cleared their throat loudly. The group turned to face the person who had drawn attention to themself. Beth was standing next to the desk. She was stony faced, but was clutching her bag so tightly her fingers were turning white. Newt mumbled an apology as he stood, closing his sketchbook and gathering his things. She sat in the vacated seat and glared at Minho, who was still sprawled over the table. He ignored her.

“Minho!”

He didn’t ignore that.

The sound of Mr Janson’s voice suddenly cutting across the classroom made everyone jump, but Minho most of all. He sat up so fast that he nearly fell off the desk. Newt and Teresa hurried to their own seats while the rest of the class turned to face the doorway, where their teacher was stood.

“Since when have students been allowed to lie on the desks?”

Minho slid off the table and stood as a wave of giggles spread across the classroom. “Sorry, sir,” he mumbled, and he shuffled over to his own desk and sat. In the chair.

Mr Janson strode to the front of the room and clapped sharply once. The class fell silent. “Now, seeing as everybody’s here and seated, we might as well start.”

 

Thomas hadn’t just been nervous about whether or not Teresa would be in school on time. That day also happened to be the last day of February. The next day would be March 1st, Day X. Everything he did from this point on had to be perfect. There was no margin for error. The slightest slip could result in tragedy.

When their last lesson of the day finished, Thomas grabbed his bag and joined Teresa as she walked out of the door. They were halfway down the stairs when Minho rushed past to intercept.

“You shanks walk home my way, right?” he said between attempts to regain his breath. “We could walk together?”

“Tom and I were gonna go to the park and check on the snowman,” said Teresa, with an apologetic tone to her voice.

Minho’s face started to fall, and Thomas just couldn’t have that. “You’re more than welcome to come with us!”

The disappointment that had been present moments before melted away, even as he said, “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your date.”

“It’s not a date, Min.”

Teresa just gave an overly exaggerated sigh. “Okay, I _guess_ he can come too.”

Minho beamed. As the three began to walk out of school, Minho began to chatter rapidly. “Do you reckon the snowman’s still there?”

“I do,” said Teresa, “but it’s buttons might not be.”

Thomas hung back slightly, letting the other two walk ahead. He was only half listening to their conversation.

He’d focused on Teresa so much that he hadn’t worried much about Minho. He’d figured that he’d have better luck focusing on just one problem at a time. But Minho had been a victim, too.

His parents both worked late, so he was often left home alone well into the night. It made him an easy target, and wasn’t something that Thomas had any power over at all. But walking home with his friend was a lot better than nothing.

Hopefully, if Teresa wasn’t killed, then the others wouldn’t be targeted anyway.

The snowman still lived! One of its eyes had mysteriously vanished, but this was quickly rectified by replacing it with one of the buttons. They were all chocolate buttons, anyway.

Thomas and Teresa walked Minho the rest of the way home, and were halfway to Teresa’s house when Thomas said, “Why don’t we walk to school together?”

“Huh?”

“We live really close to each other, so we might as well.”

“You sure?”

“Well, why not?”

“I’m late a lot.”

“Then it’ll be my job to chase you out of the house so you’re less late!”

Teresa chuckled. “Okay then. We can walk to school together. You have to meet me at mine, though.”

Thomas jokingly rolled his eyes. “Duh, your house is closer to school, of course I’d meet you at yours.”

The following snowball attack was entirely expected but she was faster than he anticipated. His arms were only halfway up towards protecting himself when she struck, causing him to take a clump of snow to the face.

He didn’t mind.


	20. Chapter 20

It was March 1st.

Day X.

18 years ago, on the day before her 11th birthday, Teresa Agnes was kidnapped and murdered. Thomas last saw her standing alone in the park at around 6pm. Her body was eventually found in that same park once all the snow finally melted. It had been shoved underneath a pile of junk.

In order to stop this from happening again, Thomas’ plan was simple.

He couldn’t be sure, but he figured that Teresa wasn’t specifically targeted. She just happened to be vulnerable and alone at exactly the wrong moment. So if she wasn’t at the park, and wasn’t vulnerable, and wasn’t alone, then she would be safe. The plan was to just do exactly what he’d been doing for the past week. Thomas would spend the evening with Teresa. When she wanted to go home, he’d walk her there. He wouldn’t leave her alone for a moment.

Teresa’s mother didn’t loom over her at the door that morning, which Thomas was thankful for. The less time he had to spend around Ms Paige, the happier he’d be.

The day at school passed without any major incidents. Minho teased them about their clear undying love for each other. Newt’s drawing of Big Ben and the rest of Westminster Palace was half complete, with him at one point narrowly avoiding being caught adding to it instead of doing the writing exercises that the class had been set. Siggy managed to get the whole class to yell at him at lunchtime when he opened a window, because it was _far_ too cold outside for windows to be opened, what was he _thinking?_ Beth didn’t talk to anyone else at all.

After school, for the first time, Teresa didn’t try to leave as quickly as possible. Instead, she walked to Thomas’ desk and waited for him to finish putting his stuff away.

“Are we going to the park again today?”

Thomas zipped his bag shut and stood. “I was thinking we could go to the children’s centre instead. It’ll be warmer.”

“How does that place even work?”

“It’s like a library, but with toys and games instead of books.”

“Won’t it be busy?”

“You’d think so, but it never is.”

The children’s centre had ended up closing when Thomas was 13 because nobody ever used it. He’d regretted not using it more. Taking Teresa there now killed two birds with one stone. He wasn’t idealistic enough to even consider the idea that this would save the centre, but he was definitely going to make the most of it while it was here. It wasn’t a very large building, being made up of just three rooms. There was an entryway, with a signing-in book laid on the desk. The main room had cushions, chairs, and sofas, and a wide selection of toys and board games. The last room was a sports hall.

Thomas and Teresa were the only people there. They signed in and dumped their bags on one of the sofas, grabbed a Ludo board, and settled in to play.

Teresa rolled a six on her second go, allowing her to begin progressing around the board while Thomas was still unable to start.

“Out of interest,” said Teresa as she placed down her counter, “how long is Minho going to keep up with the thing about us being in love?”

Thomas rolled the dice and sighed at his inability to roll a six. He passed it back, saying, “Either until somebody actually gets upset and tells him to stop, in which case he won’t mention it again, or it’s left until he gets bored. Which could be a long time.”

“How long?” She took her turn and passed the dice over.

“Until he has another couple to focus on?” Thomas looked at what he’d rolled in disgust and gestured for Teresa to take another turn.

“Is this why you don’t have many friends who are girls?”

Thomas shrugged. “Kinda. Also the girls are more Sonya’s friends. And Newt and Sonya are twins, they love each other really, but you’ve seen how much they argue.” He rolled a three. Unhelpful.

“Do you ever think that Minho gets so invested in everyone else’s nonexistent relationships because he doesn’t want people to pay attention to his own?”

“You mean he’s deflecting?”

“Yeah, that’s the word!”

Thomas considered this as he rolled a two. “I haven’t really thought about it, but it’s possible I guess.”

Teresa’s eyes glinted with excitement. “So who do you think _he_ has a crush on?”

“I don’t know. It might not be anyone. It’s your turn by the way.”

Teresa rolled and moved her counter. “Don’t be silly, Tom. Everyone has a crush on _someone._ ”

Thomas shook his head. “That’s not true. I don’t have a crush on anyone.” He’d be concerned if he did, what with him actually being 29 and all. “I don’t think any of our other friends do.”

“Oh, Newt _definitely_ has a crush on someone.”

“Okay, but I’m pretty sure that Siggy and Alby don’t.” He rolled a five. Teresa was already a quarter of the way around the board, while he hadn’t even been allowed to start. He wasn’t going to get annoyed at losing a simple, chance-based, board game to a 10 year old. He really wasn’t.

“What? You don’t want to know who Newt likes?”

“If he wants me to know he can tell me himself. Otherwise it’s none of my business.”

Teresa pouted. “You’re boring.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“Really?”

She sounded surprised, but it was true. That was how the first conversation he’d had with Chuck ended. Chuck had just been hired at the pizza place, and Thomas had been given the job of showing the new kid what to do. Chuck had talked incessantly and asked question after question, none of which were actually about work, instead being about Thomas’ personal life. Once he’d established that Thomas didn’t have any friends or hobbies, he'd called him boring and also decided that the two of them would be friends even if it killed him. Thomas had pretended to be irritated at the time, but in truth he was extremely grateful that this random high-schooler decided that Thomas was worth spending his time and energy on.

He’d barely spared a thought for Chuck since the Revival.

If Thomas succeeded, then his whole life would change. He definitely wouldn’t drift away from his friends like he had before. He might not move away. He might not get that job at the pizza place. He might not meet Chuck. And even if he did somehow meet Chuck again, Chuck’s determination to befriend him had been directly inspired by how boring and how much of a loser he was. Thomas wouldn’t be that person anymore.

Chuck had been like a little brother to him. He knew that Chuck would be completely fine without him, but still. He was going to miss him. The knowledge that Chuck wouldn’t remember him, and so wouldn’t even know that there was someone to miss, probably should’ve helped.

It didn’t.

“...Tom? It’s your go.”

Thomas blinked. Right, yes, Ludo, focus. Thomas grabbed the dice and rolled, firmly ignoring the tiny voice in the back of his head saying that if he didn’t get a six on this turn then he was going to flip the board.

“Awww,” said Teresa when it landed. “I was enjoying seeing you get angry at the dice. Oh well, you still won’t beat me.”

Thomas finally moved his counter out of the starting zone. “You never know. You might start rolling ones and I might start only rolling sixes.”

Teresa immediately rolled a six.

“Show off,” Thomas muttered.

Teresa won every game they played. Often by a pretty wide margin.

Maybe the universe, or God, or whatever, assigns everyone a certain amount of luck each day. The world doesn’t care whether that luck turns out to be good or bad, just that the quota is filled. Being murdered is extremely unlucky. Perhaps, by preventing that from happening, Teresa now had an extreme amount of excess luck for the day, which was now being used up winning game after game after game. That made sense. That must be how it works.

It was the only explanation Thomas could think of as to why he was suddenly incapable at winning.

(He was _not_ getting overly competitive with a 10 year old)

Eventually, they both glanced at the clock, and were stunned by how late it was. 6:45pm was well into the evening, and Thomas knew his mother would get worried if he stayed out much later. Teresa seemed to think she was out a bit too late as well, if her frown was anything to go by.

18 years ago, Thomas had last seen her at around 6pm. It was well past that now.

“Want to head home?” he asked.

“Not really,” she sighed.

They packed away the games they had used and signed out of the building.

Their route home took them past the lake where they’d had their first proper conversation. Up on the bank, on the other side, Jorge sat looking up at the sky. He spotted Thomas and Teresa walking together and waved. They waved back, and continued on.

Thomas walked Teresa right up to her door. As she stepped inside, he made his voice as loud as he could, and said, “Bye then! I’ll see you first thing tomorrow!”

Anyone and everyone awake nearby would have heard him say that. They’d all know that there was at least one person keeping an eye on her, and who was expecting to see her alive the next day. It gave out the message that she was no longer alone. No longer a suitable target.

Just in case it _wasn’t_ random.

Thomas went straight to bed after dinner, but he couldn’t sleep. He grabbed the clock off the bedside table and stared at it. He watched what remained of of Day X tick away. Eventually, with about 10 minutes to go, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He knew as he pulled on his coat and shoes that he was being irrational, but he had to be absolutely sure.

Clock in hand, he stood across from Teresa’s house. No movement came from inside or from any of the surrounding houses.

23:59:58

23:59:59

00:00:00

00:00:01

Day X disappeared without fanfare. Thomas looked up from the clock and back at the house. There was no change. No sign that anything was out of the ordinary. Well, not counting the child standing across the road staring at it.

But Teresa Agnes was alive where she hadn’t been before. This time 18 years ago, she was already dead. Now she was at home. She was in bed. She was alive. As she would continue to be for many, many years.

He went back home and got into bed.

This time, sleep came easily.


	21. Chapter 21

Sleep may have finally come easily for Thomas, but _staying_ asleep was another matter entirely.

By four in the morning Thomas was once again wide awake. His anticipation about the day ahead was filling him with excess energy and he didn’t know what to do about it. He wanted the day to begin already. He wanted to see Teresa and confirm that she was okay. He wanted to see his friends and enjoy his birthday. He wanted it to not be so early anymore!

He decided to kill time by cleaning the rest of the crap off of his bedroom floor. Stray clothes went into the hamper. Toys went into various boxes and cupboards. Books went onto the shelf. He knew that his friends wouldn’t care about the mess, but with the floor clear then they would actually have somewhere to sit. Because nobody in their right mind would want to sit on dirty laundry and stray lego bricks.

The floor was clear by half five.

Thomas started to pace up and down, thinking about the day ahead. Day X was finished, and Teresa was still alive. But today was significant too. It was Teresa’s birthday! She probably hadn’t had a proper birthday celebration before. Thomas was determined to make sure that she enjoyed herself.

Six.

With a groan of frustration, Thomas flopped backwards onto his bed. He didn’t even consider getting under the covers. He knew there was no point.

His bedroom door clicked ajar.

“You up, kiddo?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

His mother chuckled. “I’m not surprised. You only turn 11 once, you know.” She pushed the door all the way open and stepped in. Whatever she had been about to say died away as she looked around Thomas’ strangely tidy room. “Who are you and what have you done with my son?”

“I’ve been awake since four.”

She winced. “That sucks.”

“Yup.”

She broke into a smile. “Happy birthday, Thomas.”

“Thanks, mum.”

“Seeing as we’re both awake, we might as well have some breakfast. You coming?”

Thomas nodded vigourously.

 

Minho caught up with Thomas and Teresa as they walked to school.

“Happy birthday, shanks. You’re finally all grown up like the rest of us.”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in why don’t you?” Thomas sighed. “It’s not my fault I’m the youngest.”

“Nope, but it shall be funny forever.”

“I wouldn’t call 11 ‘grown up’ though,” said Teresa. “We’re still kids.”

Minho flung his arm around her shoulder. “You’re not getting it. Yesterday, you were just 10 years old. Now, you’re 11! That means you’re a whole year older!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Don’t question him.” Thomas shook his head with a smile, betraying his amusement. “Let him have his weird logic.”

“My logic is not weird!”

“If you say so, Min.”

“Hey!”

The first thing that the rest of Thomas’ friends said to him and Teresa that morning was to wish them both a happy birthday. Throughout the day, more and more people did the same (except Thomas had to direct more than half of them over to Teresa. Most people didn’t know it was hers too). Even Gally wished them a happy birthday, which Thomas was surprised but pleased about.

At the end of the day, nobody in their friendship group rushed out of the classroom. There was no need. They were all going to go to the same place.

“Hey, Sonne!” Newt called across the room to his sister, who actually was about to leave. Sonya stepped out of the way of the door to let other people leave and faced him, indicating that she was listening. “Remember, I’m not going to be here after choir, so-”

“So I’ll have to walk home by myself. Yes. I know. You’ve said. It’s Thomas’ birthday. _I know._ ”

She spun and walked out of the door without another word.

Confused, Thomas looked at Newt and asked, “What was all that about?”

Newt laughed sheepishly. “I may or may not have gotten a little excited about today and told her about it. Multiple times. In detail.”

Thomas was about to think of a response when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned to find that it had been Mr Janson.

“Yes sir?”

“Could you and Teresa come and help me with something? It’ll only take a minute, and you two live the closest to the school.”

He turned out to want their help moving some boxes of books into a different room. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said that it wouldn’t take long, but nonetheless the delay was annoying.

Even more so when they got back to the classroom to find it empty of everyone else.

“They ditched us!” said Thomas in disbelief.

“They know where you live, yeah? They probably just got bored of waiting and went on ahead.”

“I know that, but they still ditched us. We were supposed to all go and pick what pizzas we wanted from the supermarket.”

Teresa shrugged and put her coat on. “We can still do that. If anything, this means we can pick more of what _we_ like. They can’t pick if they’re not there.”

Thomas paused, then smiled. “You make an excellent point.”

Not only were Thomas and Teresa able to get the pizzas that they liked, but the trip took about a third of the time that it probably would have if the whole group had been there. He wondered whether someone had realised this, and what was why the group had left them. If that was the case, then who’d suggested it? Not Minho, that’s for sure.

Thomas opened the front door and, without thinking, turned on the light.

A more observant person that Thomas would have realised how strange this was. He shouldn’t have needed to turn on the light. His mother and friends were supposed to be there already, so the light wouldn’t be off without a good reason.

Alby and Siggy, who were stationed on either side of the door, let off party poppers above Thomas and Teresa’s heads when the light came on. They rushed to join Minho, Newt, and Thomas’ mother, who were standing behind the table.

“Thomas, Teresa, happy birthday!” they chorused.

Thomas picked some of the coloured paper off of his head and looked around. A big banner reading ‘Happy Birthday’ had been hung up across the room. All of their friends were wearing shiny party hats. Alby’s was red, Siggy’s was orange, Newt’s was gold, and Minho’s was pink. On the table laid two more, one green and one blue. Also on the table were two separate birthday cakes. On one, the icing said ‘Happy Birthday Thomas!!’ and the other said ‘Happy Birthday Teresa!!”

Thomas didn’t know what to say.

“This is for us?” asked Teresa in a quiet voice.

Thomas’ mother chuckled. “Of course! When Newt got in contact and told me it was your birthday too, I knew I had to get you a cake as well. The rest is all down to these guys here.”

“Thank you.” She sounded choked up, like she was trying not to cry.

Thomas found his words, breaking into a huge grin. “This is great! Thanks so much guys!” He held up the shopping bag. “And look, I brought pizza!”

Cheers went up around the room.

Thomas’ mother set about preparing the pizzas, and the kids collectively decided to get out of her way. Alby and Siggy went into Thomas’ room first, but Minho blocked the doorway before Thomas could enter.

“You can’t go in without a party hat.”

“Minho, it’s my bedroom.”

“It’s the law! You need a party hat!”

Thomas was about to argue when somebody gently tugged on his shoulder for him to turn around. He did, and found Newt holding both of the spare hats. Thomas pointed to one, expecting Newt to just hand it to him to put on. He didn’t. Instead, he reached out and placed the hat on Thomas’ head, carefully pulling on the elastic so it would rest underneath Thomas’ chin, keeping the hat in place.

“There,” he said as he adjusted Thomas’ hair. “Tommy the Greenie.”

“I guess that makes me blue,” said Teresa.

Newt stepped out of Thomas’ personal space and held the last hat out to her. “Do you need help putting it on?”

She practically snatched it out of his hand. “I can manage by myself, thanks.”

Thomas decided to ignore the strange look that Minho was giving Newt and walked into his room.

There were two piles of presents sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Which one’s Teresa’s?” he asked.

Siggy pointed to the pile on the right.

Thomas opened a drawer and retrieved a small wrapped box and place it on the top of that pile.

Teresa’s eyes were watering slightly as she said, “I’m really sorry, Tom. I wasn’t able to finish your present in time.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry. You can give it to me later.”

When they opened their presents, Teresa appeared to again be close to tears. It made sense. If this was the first time she’d had a proper birthday celebration, it was bound to be at least a little overwhelming. She left Thomas’ present until last. When she opened the box, she spent a few seconds just staring at the contents, before dropping it and flinging her arms around him in a hug.

Alby peered over at what she’d dropped. “Is that a tiny teddy bear?”

“Yeah,” Thomas replied to him. Then, to Teresa, he said, “Your old one got ruined, right? I figured you’d like a new one.”

She nodded into his shoulder, and detached herself. She scooped up the new keyring and clipped it onto her bag where the old one had used to be. She faced Thomas with a teary smile.

“I love it. Thank you.”

When the pizzas were ready, Siggy made sure to complain about the lack of variety of toppings. Everyone else made sure to respond that everybody liked margarita and pepperoni, and if he had an issue with the selection then he should’ve gone to the supermarket with them to choose. Minho then changed his mind and loudly declared that he wanted hawaiian, which was a complete lie that Newt called him out on. (“You don’t like pineapple even when it _isn’t_ on pizza, who’re you trying to kid?”) Thomas had been a little worried that he and Teresa had bought too much food, but his fears proved to be unfounded. Nothing was left by the time they were done.

They all had a slice of Teresa’s birthday cake because she wasn’t going to be able to take hers home. It was a rich, gooey chocolate, and Thomas was almost completely certain that he’d never had a better cake in all 29 years he’d been alive.

Eventually, the evening came to an end, and people had to go. Newt and Minho offered to clean up while Thomas walked Teresa home. He decided that, as it was only a couple of streets away, he didn’t need to take his coat.

It was almost as if he’d forgotten how snow works.

When they were nearly there, Teresa got sick of his shivering and insistancies that he was fine and wrapped her scarf around him.

“Don’t you need this?”

“I have my coat. And besides, you need to walk back, right?”

They reached her door.

“You can give me my scarf back tomorrow. And I’ll give you your birthday present first thing in the morning, okay? I promise.” Teresa smiled, honestly looking happier and more hopeful than he’d ever seen her before.

When the door clicked shut behind her, he managed to control himself for long enough to get out of sight of the house. Then, he couldn’t help it, he jumped for joy.

He’d done it! Teresa was alive! She’d survived Day X! She’d survived their birthday! Soon she was going to be taken away from her mother! She was going to be okay!

When he got home, everyone else had already left.

The lack of sleep that morning and the general stress of the last couple of weeks must have caught up to him, because he went straight to bed and slept like a log.

 

He didn’t stop at Teresa’s house the next morning. He’d overslept by a lot and was already late for school. If she’d had any sense at all then she’d have gone in without him. And Teresa was pretty sensible, so he knew that she must have.

He ran the whole way there and flung the classroom door open. “Sorry I’m late, sir!”

Mr Janson looked up from the register. “It’s okay Thomas, you’re just in time. Go take your seat.

Thomas slumped into his seat in relief. He’d made it.

“Hmm, looks like we’re just missing Teresa today. Does anyone know where she could be?”

Thomas’ blood ran cold.

He looked over at Teresa’s seat.

It was empty.


	22. Chapter 22

There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.

There  _ had  _ to be.

Teresa had said she’d give Thomas his present first thing. She’d  _ promised.  _ She’d said it wasn’t finished, after all. Maybe she’d stayed up too late trying to get it done? And had overslept as a result? That made sense right? Of course that’s where she was. There wasn’t anything to worry about. Everything was okay. Teresa was okay.

Except she didn’t show up at school at all.

When school finished, Thomas didn’t wait for Minho or Newt or anybody else. He rushed out of the classroom, barely pausing to grab his coat and bag, and ran all the way to Teresa’s house.

He didn’t stop running until he reached the door, almost colliding with it head on. He had to know for sure that she was there. He didn’t care what the neighbours, or what Ava Paige, would think or do. He pounded on the door as hard as he could.

“Teresa! Teresa, are you in there? It’s me, Thomas! Teresa, please!”

There was no response. Not from Teresa, not from her mother, not from anyone.

There was no sign that anyone was home at all. The lights were off. The curtains were drawn. The windows were shut.

Thomas stepped back a couple of paces and reevaluated.

If Teresa wasn’t inside her house, then where else could she be?

He nearly tripped over his own feet as he ran round to the back of the house. He’d found her in that shed once before, hadn’t he? He hated that he hoped that she was there again. If she was, it would mean she was hurt. Possibly really badly. But at least he’d know she was alive.

He flung the door open with all of his strength.

No Teresa.

There were, however, footprints leading to and away from the shed. They were from big boots of some sort, way too big to be Teresa or her mother’s. And they were fresh. Somebody had been here within the last 24 hours.

There were a million different possible explanations for this, many of which ran through Thomas’ head as he desperately tried to cling to some hope that she was okay. But he couldn’t lie to himself.

She was gone.

  
  


He didn’t go into school on Friday.

His mother hadn’t questioned him when he refused to leave the house. She’d seen how upset he was when he got home the day before, and thankfully didn’t push him on it when he didn’t want to talk. She still had to go to work though, leaving Thomas home alone for most of the day.

Being completely alone with his thoughts didn’t exactly do Thomas any good. Not even seeing the page of doodles hung on his wall could cheer him up. But he knew that if he’d gone into school and seen her empty chair he might have actually started crying in front of the whole class. He definitely did  _ not _ want that to happen.

  
  


On Saturday he somehow had a resurgence of hope. He tracked down the phonebook and looked up Teresa’s home phone number. If she turned out to be home, he was going to go straight there and get her to safety, to hell with subtlety.

The phone nearly rang all the way out when somebody finally picked up.

“Hello?” It was Teresa’s mother.

“Uh, hi. It’s Thomas Cooper. I’m a friend of Teresa’s. I was wondering if she could come round mine today?”

“Sure. If you can find her, let me know.”

She hung up.

The sliver of hope died away.

  
  


On Sunday, Thomas woke to find his mother standing outside talking to someone. He pushed the front door open slightly so he could see and hear what they were saying.

The man she was talking to was called Vince. He was a coworker of hers. They were both journalists at The Right Arm, a local news and television station.

“What are they telling the kids?” Vince asked.

“Nothing yet. I could visit the school and take it up with them. The last thing I want is for Thomas to grow up with horrible memories like this.”

“What about the news reports?”

“If we make sure it’s only aired when kids aren’t watching, then we should be fine.”

Thomas retreated back into the house, not wanting them to know he’d been listening.

  
  


When dinner came around, Thomas wasn’t hungry. He spent a good 15 minutes pushing the food around his plate before his mother spoke up.

“You really should eat, kiddo.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, then sighed and said, “I was trying so hard to keep her safe. I just wanted her to be safe, and happy, and not get hurt. There must’ve been something I could’ve done differently, and then she’d be okay now!”

“Thomas, listen to me.” She put her fork down and waited for Thomas to look at her. “This wasn’t your fault. With the situation that Teresa was in, there was only so much that you could’ve done. And you did. You did all you could. You had no way of knowing what was going to happen. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“I wish she hadn’t been alone.”

“You made sure that she wasn’t. You made a difference, you should be proud of that.” She picked her fork back up. “I think you should go into school tomorrow. There isn’t much point wasting away here.”

“I guess you’re right.”

  
  


“Before I let you all go to break, I have an announcement to make.” Mr Janson closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them again and addressing his class. “Last week I told you that Teresa was home with a cold. That wasn’t true. She’s actually moved to live with her grandmother for personal reasons. It happened so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. I overheard some of you speculating about where she could be, so I decided to tell you, so you could put the matter to rest. There’s no need to worry about her. I hear she’s doing well.”

  
  


After school, Thomas knocked on the staff room door.

The door opened, revealing the teacher for class four. Thomas didn’t remember her name.

“Can I speak to Mr Janson, please?”

She stood aside and let him in.

“Ah, Thomas, what can I do for you?” Mr Janson was sat at his desk, halfway through marking the day’s maths exercise.

“Why did you lie about Teresa?”

“Huh?”

“She isn’t living with her grandmother. She’s disappeared. Why did you lie?”

The friendly smile disappeared from his face, being replaced with a serious expression. “The police and PTA have discussed the situation and have decided that this is the best course of action. I’m sorry to have to ask this of you, but could you please go along with it? We don’t want any of the other children to panic.”

“Shouldn’t they, though? Wouldn’t that be better? If there’s someone kidnapping kids, then wouldn’t we be safer if we knew about it?”

“Teresa’s disappearance could be because of a few different things. And even if it  _ was _ a kidnapping, there’s no guarantee that anyone else is in danger.”

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t, though.”

Mr Janson shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I really am sorry about this, Thomas. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be lying about it.”

Thomas sighed. “I know, sir.”

As he walked home alone, he wrapped the scarf he was wearing tighter around himself.

He’d never gotten the opportunity to return it to her.

Now it was all he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who's reading this !!! it makes me so happy that people are enjoying my writing, it really means a lot !!!
> 
> and i PROMISE that there's a happy ending coming. we're just nowhere near it yet ; D


	23. Chapter 23

On Wednesday, just six days after Teresa had disappeared, a girl called Brenda Rosier was reported missing.

It had happened even sooner than it had the first time.

Thomas didn’t know her, so it felt less personal that it had with Teresa. But she was yet another person that he’d failed to save. He hadn’t even  _ tried _ to protect her. He’d been so busy grieving for Teresa that he’d pretty much forgotten that she wasn’t the only one to die.

On Thursday, Thomas, Newt, and Minho all walked home together. They’d been told in class that day that the local council had decided that children needed to either be in groups or with an adult at all times. Sonya had decided to walk with her own friends, leaving Newt to join the other two for as far as their journeys aligned.

“Did you two hear about that girl from Scorch Primary?” asked Newt.

“Yeah, I heard,” said Minho. Thomas just nodded.

“Apparently the rest of the kids there have been told that she’s living with her Grandad, but you’ve seen the news, you know that’s not true.”

“Your point?” asked Minho.

“I think there’s a serial kidnapper operating in the area.”

“What?” Minho stopped walking. “Are you serious? If that were true, surely the grown ups would say something!”

“They don’t want to scare us.” Thomas didn’t look at his friends as he spoke, instead fixing his gaze on the garden fence they were standing next to. “I heard my mum talking about it, and Mr Janson said so too. It’s why we’re only allowed to watch The Right Arm at the moment. Every other channel’s talking about it openly.”

Minho rounded on Thomas. “If you knew, why didn’t you say something?”

“Mr Janson asked you not to, right?” asked Newt.

Thomas nodded.

“Figures.” Newt sighed. “I think we’re safe, though. Only girls have been taken so far.”

“You think there could be more?” asked Minho.

“Never two without a third. Beyond that? I don’t know.”

Thomas said nothing. Newt’s conclusion was wrong, but what could he do about it? What could he say? There was a chance that Minho would be safe anyway, because his friends were already making more of an effort to stick with him. But they’d done that for Teresa, and it hadn’t helped. She was still missing. She was still most likely dead.

“What about Sonya?” Minho asked. “She’s a girl. She could be a target.”

“Dad’s signing us both up for self defense classes. And she never goes anywhere alone, anyway. She’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure, or are you just saying that?”

“She’s tough. Tougher than me. She’ll definitely be okay.”

Minho smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good that.”

  
  


Before Brenda Rosier had gone missing, a police car had been stationed outside Teresa’s house 24/7. They’d probably thought that the mother had something to do with it.

Thomas had started walking to school via a different route. The police car, and Teresa’s house, only served to remind him of his failure.

When Brenda disappeared, however, the police car did too. They probably shifted their focus to the idea of there being a serial kidnapper, which ruled Teresa’s mother out as a suspect. She couldn’t be. She’d been under police watch since her daughter vanished, and she’d never had any contact with this other girl.

One day, as Thomas walked the last few streets of his journey home alone, he turned down Teresa’s street on autopilot. He only realised what he’d done when the house was already in sight.

Oh well, it was too late to turn back now.

As he approached, he saw the front door open. He froze in place and watched Teresa’s mother step outside, holding a full bin bag. She dropped the bag onto the curb, almost with a sense of disgust, before turning on her heels and going straight back inside.

Thomas was able to see through the plastic into the bag just enough to make out what some of the shapes were.

There was a lot of fabric inside it. Clothes? There were books, pens, and pencils. Everything had been damaged in some way.

There was also a small teddy-bear keyring.

Thomas jerked backwards, fighting the urge to vomit. He was dimly aware of his own bag slipping out of his fingers as he ran back in the direction that he’d come from. He didn’t care where he ended up. Anywhere was better than here. He just needed to get far, far away as quickly as he could.

His stomach lurched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's even shorter than usual, but i couldn't stop it anywhere else, sorry! i upload pretty often though, so it won't be long until the next one! i have loads of chapters written in advance, so i'll be able to keep updating even if life starts to happen : D


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am Not Patient and yesterday's chapter was short so here have some more : P

Thomas stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden feeling. He’d been running down the street, away from Teresa’s house, but something was wrong. Was different. Was...

He blinked.

He was in an alleyway.

He didn’t recognise it. It definitely wasn’t anywhere near Teresa’s house.

He blinked again, hard, and rubbed his eyes.

When he opened them, his gaze fell onto a large piece of broken glass that had been dumped on the ground.

His adult self stared back.

The air was filled with the sound of sirens. He crept to the end of the alley and peered around the corner. There was his apartment building! It was surrounded by police cars and the nearby area was being cordoned off.

“Victim is Mary Cooper, female, age 52. Suspect is Thomas Cooper, male, age 29, approximately 5’10’’, brown hair...”

Thomas stopped listening and retreated further into the alley.

He’d failed.

He hadn’t saved Teresa. He hadn’t saved Brenda. He hadn’t saved Minho. He hadn’t saved his mother. And now the police thought that he’d killed her.

There was nothing else for it.

He had to run.

  


It was dry beneath the underpass. It was also dark, so in the unlikely event that anybody was to pass through during the night, they wouldn’t recognise him. To be perfectly honest, they probably wouldn’t even stop to look. The general public’s tendency to avoid being drawn in by the plight of the homeless would hopefully work in his favour.

He set a timer for 20 minutes on his phone. That was all the time he could spare himself to cry and freak out.

They were dead. He’d failed them. He knew he could’ve done more for Teresa. He’d known what her home life was like. From the moment he’d found out, he should never have let her go back. He shouldn’t have let her out of his sight! But he had, and she’d been murdered. She might have lived a little longer, and her last week might have been a little nicer than it had been before, but dead is dead is dead and he didn’t save her.

Then there was Brenda Rosier. He’d been so caught up in trying to save Teresa, and then breaking down when he’d failed, that he’d forgotten all about her. She’d been killed earlier than she was due to be, too. His actions had actually _shortened_ her life. That was worse than failure.

Thomas had been sent back to the present before Minho’s death, but presumably that hadn’t been changed in any meaningful way. How could it have been? Minho dying was what had fractured his friendship group in the first place. If he was still alive, then there was no way that Thomas would’ve been in this position now. Minho had been one of his best friends, and Thomas had failed him. He was gone.

And now Thomas’ mother was dead too. He hadn’t processed it properly before. He’d just found her body and, mere moments later, he’d been sent back in time. But back in the present she was dead. She’d been murdered. He wasn’t ever going to see her again. And the police thought that _he’d_ killed her? What the fuck was he going to do?

The timer rang.

He wiped the remaining tears from his face and desperately tried to get his shit together.

This was his reality now. The sooner he accepted that, the sooner he could do something about it.

He needed to think.

As far as the rest of the world was concerned, his mother had died a couple of hours ago. For him, it had simultaneously just happened, and had happened a few weeks ago. _He’d_ been the first one to find her, and to see the state of the surrounding apartment. Aside from the killer, obviously, but they weren’t exactly available to ask right now.  

Had he seen anything there, aside from the body, that was out of the ordinary? If he could remember something, it might be able to help...

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember seeing her phone or bag anywhere.

It’s possible that he just hadn’t been paying attention, or that he just hadn’t noticed them. It would be understandable if so, given the circumstances. But the more he thought about it, the surer he was. They definitely hadn’t been there.

Thomas’ mother wouldn’t have let her things go missing. She was the kind of person who made sure that her phone, at least, was always within arm’s reach. If her phone and bag were missing, then somebody must’ve taken them. And that somebody could only have been the killer.

But why? What use could the killer have for a dead woman’s things? Did she know something? Was there evidence that could lead to this killer’s arrest in that bag, or on that phone? He’d presumed, but mostly hoped, until now that saving the kids would save his mother, just because that was how Revival worked. But what if he really _was_ right? What if the killer really _was_ the same person? And what if Thomas’ mother _had_ known something? Right at the start, Thomas had thought that it was possible that his mother had been killed to keep her quiet about the potential kidnapping at the supermarket, and had entertained the possibility of the same person being behind it all. If that were the case, it certainly made a lot of sense. She might’ve even known the killer’s identity!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have any proof. Nothing concrete, anyway. Tempting as it was, he couldn’t exactly walk into a police station and say that he was a time traveller, and he was _pretty sure_ that the person who killed his mother was _actually_ the same guy who killed a bunch of kids 18 years ago, _never mind_ the fact that someone was currently serving a life sentence for that. Somehow, Thomas didn’t see that conversation going well.

Which brought him back to his original problem.

What the fuck was he going to do?

  


The next day found Thomas tucked into a corner of a busy coffee shop.

He hadn’t had much cash on him when everything had happened, but there’d been enough for a cup of coffee. It gave him an excuse to sit inside, and nobody was paying any attention to him.

Also, he needed the caffeine. He hadn’t wanted to risk sleeping during the night, and was now close to crashing. He couldn’t think straight. He knew he’d have to sleep at some point. And eat. But nowhere was safe.

He dug a fingernail into his leg every time he felt himself start to doze off. He was out in the open. Sleep couldn’t happen here. It just couldn’t.

Something started vibrating in his pocket.

It took him a moment to realise what it was. He pulled out his phone and looked at it for a second.

_Fuck._ It was his manager. Thomas had had a shift at the pizza place today, hadn’t he? True, he wouldn’t have gone even if he _had_ remembered, but still. His coworkers were good people, and he’d left them in the lurch. They didn’t deserve that.

He answered the phone.

“Yo, Thomas, where were you today?”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas croaked.

“Woah, you sound like shit, you okay dude?”

Well, he asked for it. Thomas was too tired to pretend he was feeling otherwise. “Not really.”

“You wanna talk about it? My door’s always open. I can do you some food and we can chat.”

Food? Somewhere private and far away from cameras? Thomas was in. He told his manager as much and hung up. He drained the last of his coffee and stood. The moment he stepped away from his table, a group of teenage girls rushed to claim it. None of them looked at his face.

Trying to act like there was nothing was wrong in the world, Thomas walked out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: while i was looking through earlier chapters to check that i wasn't repeating myself too badly i found a really bad typo and died a little inside. it has now been fixed : D


	25. Chapter 25

“I’m really sorry about today.”

“Hey, don’t worry man, it’s chill.” Thomas’ manager, Lawrence, set down two full plates and sat opposite him. “You’re usually super reliable. One no-show isn’t gonna get’cha fired. You wanna tell me what’s up, though?”

Trying not to make just how hungry he was _too_ obvious, Thomas began to eat. Between mouthfuls, he spun a hopefully reasonable sounding and believable story.

“My mum’s been staying at mine since I got out of the hospital. I love her to bits, but she can be a bit much at times, you know? We got into a bit of a fight last night. It ended with me storming out of my apartment and I haven’t actually been back since. This was at about seven? I think, anyway. I haven’t slept. I’m sorry I didn’t call into work, but I wasn’t thinking.”

“Ah, that’d explain it. Don’t sweat it, you can crash here for as long as you need.” He stood. “I fancy a beer. Want one?”

“No thanks.”

“Well, feel free to help yourself.” Lawrence opened his fridge. “Oh. Scratch that, you can’t help yourself, because I’m all out. I’ll just go get some more. Be right back!”

Thomas couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief once the front door clicked shut behind him.

Lawrence was alright. The way he talked could get annoying sometimes, but he was a decent enough guy. Thomas was pretty sure that the shit he’d pulled today was a fireable offense, and instead Lawrence was giving him free food and a place to stay. Most people wouldn’t do that. Not for him, anyway.

He finished his food and, idly looking for something to do, switched on the tv.

_“The suspect is described as being approximately 5’10’’, with brown hair, and was last seen wearing a white shirt. The public is advised not to approach him, and to contact the police if-”_

Thomas slammed the ‘off’ button.

This was bad. If his face was all over the news like that, then he was so much more likely to be recognised. Any sane person wouldn’t stop to hear a suspected murderer out, either. They would, and really _should,_ turn him straight over to the police.

Speaking of which.

Thomas went to the window and peeked behind the curtain.

What he saw made his heart sink, but wasn’t exactly surprising.

The police cars outside, and there were a lot, were all flashing their lights. The sirens were silent though. They probably hadn’t wanted to alert him to their presence. Well, that was for fucking nothing, because guess what? He was alerted. Lawrence was talking to one of the officers, and a group of them looked like they were about to enter the house.

Thomas dropped the curtain and backed away.

He needed to find an exit. Preferably one that didn’t lead him straight into the cops’ loving arms. Houses had backdoors, right? He was freaking out so much he couldn’t remember. Not for certain. He thought they did, though. He hoped they did.

He stumbled into the kitchen. Success! There was a backdoor! Thomas twisted the key that had been left in the lock and stepped out as quietly as he could. He spun the key back to its previous position and pushed the door shut, locking himself out and hopefully making his escape route less obvious.

He turned to face the garden. The only actual way out was a gate that led back round to the front, which was obviously not a viable option. The rest of the garden was surrounded by a wooden fence. It was too high to jump over, and way too flimsy for him to climb. For a moment, he considered trying anyway, but he was already wanted for murder, and wasn’t in any hurry to add vandalism to the list.

He realised that his priorities probably needed reexamining if _that_ was really what he was worried about right now.

...He was _very_ tired. That was his excuse, and he was sticking to it.

There was, however, a solution to the fence situation. Lawrence’s garden had a small table with two chairs in the corner. It was nothing for Thomas to climb on top. It was a little wobbly, but it was the best he was going to get. From this higher point, Thomas was able to pull himself over the top of the fence without breaking it.

There wasn’t anything to break his fall on the other side. He curled in on himself as he hit the ground.

His arm stung a little where he’d hit the gravel, but other than that he wasn’t hurt at all. Counting his blessings, he got to his feet and dusted himself off.

He froze when a light behind him came on.

“Relax, it’s only me.”

Thomas spun as quickly as his body would allow.

Standing there, shining a torch at him, was Chuck.

Back when Thomas had thought he could save Teresa and Minho, he’d legitimately believed that he wouldn’t ever see Chuck again. Or, at least, he wouldn’t ever see _his_ Chuck again. The kids’ survival, especially Minho’s, would’ve changed Thomas’ life so drastically that it was fairly likely that he and Chuck wouldn’t have met, and then even if they did they probably wouldn’t have become friends. He’d almost made peace with that outcome.

So seeing Chuck again was quite the shock.

Logically it shouldn’t have been. He was back in the present, and he’d barely changed anything. Of course Chuck would also be here. Of course they’d still know each other. Of course Chuck would trust him enough to approach him in a dark alley late in the evening, armed with just a torch, even though Thomas was the prime suspect in a murder investigation.

But Thomas was kinda dumb sometimes. He was well aware of this, often being the first in line to admit it. So seeing Chuck thoroughly surprised him

“You just gonna stand there gawking or are we gonna go?” Chuck asked.

Thomas snapped back to himself. “Go. Definitely go. I need to get out of here.”

Chuck grinned. “Yeah, you do.” He walked past Thomas, saying, “The cops are round the corner behind me, so let’s go this way instead. It’ll take a bit longer, but you’ll get caught if we try going the sensible route.”

“Where are we going?” asked Thomas as he jogged to catch up.

Chuck looked at Thomas like he’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Back to my place, of course.”

Thomas stopped walking. “I can’t do that. You’ll just-”

“You don’t get a choice in the matter,” Chuck interrupted. “And I’ll drag you if I have to.”

“But your parents-”

“They won’t know.” Chuck grabbed Thomas’ wrist and resumed walking, forcing him to follow. “Now come on! You need to get out of the open.”

Thomas was too tired to keep arguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anybody seen shaun of the dead? i had to stop myself from referencing that film in this chapter, bc there he _did_ break a fence when he failed to climb over it


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have spent the _whole day_ so far watching the deleted scenes, gag reel, and other extras from tdc with people from the tmr discord. i couldn't have wished for a better way to spend my day, what a brilliant thing to wake up to : D
> 
> it _also_ means that i haven't written a word today but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Soon enough, they reached Chuck’s family’s house. The lights were on, telling Thomas that there were other people home. Probably Chuck’s parents. Chuck didn’t appear to be all that concerned, pulling Thomas through the front door and pushing him towards the stairs.

“My room’s the first on the right. Go in and shut the door behind you. Quietly.” He put his bag down by the door and walked into a different room. “Hi, mum, I’m home...”

Thomas walked up the stairs softly as he could and hid in Chuck’s room.

The room wasn’t anywhere near as messy as Thomas’ childhood room had been, but it wasn’t tidy either. Chuck’s desk had a pile of textbooks hanging off the edge, and a few stray sheets of paper and some pens scattered across the rest of it. A small bookshelf was crammed full of books, with some being stacked on top because they didn’t all fit. In the corner of the room was a tv, with a couple of difference games consoles attached to it. Stacked next to it were boxes of various video games. The walls were papered with posters. The bed was unmade.

Thomas sat on the floor and leant against the side of the bed, staring at the closed door.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew was that he was being woken up by the door opening. He tensed, ready to run, but relaxed when he saw Chuck walk in and close the door behind him.

“How long has it been?” asked Thomas.

“Since we got here? About half an hour.”

“Listen, Chuck, thank you for this, but I can’t stay-”

Chuck sat on the floor opposite Thomas and pointed a finger at him. “Shut up about that. You don’t have anywhere else to go, do you?” Thomas shook his head. “Then it’s settled. You’re staying here.”

“You _do_ know why the police are after me, right?”

“Yeah. The police came into work today and spoke to a couple of us and the manager. It was all over the news too.”

“Then why are you helping me?”

“Because you didn’t do it, duh.” Chuck looked surprised that Thomas had even asked. “I know you, and I know you’d _never_ murder somebody. Especially not your own mother! I was round yours just the other day, I saw how much you meant to each other. There’s no way it was you.”

Thomas sighed in relief. “Thanks, Chuck.”

“Do you have any idea who it could’ve been, though? At all?”

Thomas hesitated. “Not... really?”

“But you have a hunch, right?”

“Not who they are, exactly. But, and I can’t even explain why I think this, but I think that whoever killed my mum might be the same person who killed some people I knew when I was a kid.”

Chuck nodded knowingly. “Teresa Agnes and Minho Park, right?”

Thomas was halfway through nodding when he realised exactly what Chuck had just said. His mouth dropped open. “How do you know about that?”

Chuck fidgeted as he said, “I was reading this book about serial killers, and there was a chapter about them. I noticed that it was the same town and school that you’re from, and I checked and the dates matched up. I found out about a week ago. I wasn’t going to bring it up. I figured that if you wanted to talk about it, you would.” He reached over to his bookcase and pulled out a small, black book with a lot of multi colored tabs sticking out all around the edges. He handed it to Thomas. “Here, you can have a look if you like. It’s the pink tab.”

“What were you doing reading something like this, anyway?” asked Thomas as he flipped the book open.

“I’ve got to do a project for school. I’m thinking about doing it on serial killers, and why they do what they do. That book was pretty helpful for finding out about cases that I could look into a bit more, but if I want to focus on the ‘why’ it’s not all that great. It’s just a starting point.”

Thomas stopped listening, instead focusing on the book in his hands. The school photos of the three victims were staring back at him.

Thomas remembered when those photos were taken. It had been at the beginning of that school year, and they’d ended up running late almost immediately. Not that that was unusual. Teresa had been the first person in their class to have their picture taken because her surname, Agnes, meant that she was the first in the register. Except she’d refused to smile. The photographer had ended up spending a good fifteen minutes trying to get her to smile before giving up and taking the picture anyway. Thomas had used to think that she just looked bored in the picture. But, now that’d he’d gotten to know her a bit better, he could see a hint of triumph in her expression.

After that delay, all the other kids had been eager to get it over with so they could go, so when their turns came they’d made sure to sit on the chair with big, exaggerated grins already on their faces. Most people had ended up with smiles that looked fake, Thomas included. Not Minho, though. His smile looked completely genuine. It probably was, too. Minho had always been able to find something to laugh about.

The other girl, Brenda, hadn’t gone to Thomas’ school, so he didn’t know the story of this picture, but her smile looked natural enough.

Thomas had seen all three of these photos before. They were what the reports and articles had used over the years, after all. They broke his heart every time.

“You okay?” asked Chuck.

“Yeah. It’s just...” Thomas looked up at Chuck. “Minho was one of my best friends. My whole group just sorta fell apart after.” He shook his head and dropped his eyes back down to the pictures. “We were just starting to get to know Teresa, as well. When she vanished I took it really hard.”

Thomas’ eyes skimmed the captions, labelling who was who.

Minho Park, age 11.

Brenda Rosier, age 11.

Teresa Agnes, age 11.

Wait.

What?

He read it over again.

It definitely said that Teresa was 11.

“She died just after her birthday, didn’t she?” said Chuck. “Being murdered sucks anyway, but that must’ve been a really low blow.”

“Our birthday,” Thomas murmured as he scanned the text, trying to find something concrete. Once he found it, he said, “We had a joint birthday party. I walked her home, and she was gone the next morning.”

“Shit, man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

It actually kinda was. Because all that _had_ actually happened.

He hadn’t been completely sure until this point that the last few weeks had made _any_ sort of difference. It had been possible that, since he’d failed, he’d just been sent back to the present and nothing at all had changed. But it had! The date of Teresa’s death was listed as March 3rd, not March 1st like it had been before. And her age was listed to have been 11, not 10. Everything that Thomas had done had stuck.

For a moment, it made him feel a little better. But it solved nothing. They were still dead.

He closed the book and put it down.

“Didn’t they find the guy who did it, though?” asked Chuck. “I’m pretty sure that one said it was solved.”

“The guy they arrested was innocent. There’s no way Jorge would ever do something like that.”

“Did you know him?”

“He was a friend. He used to talk to any kids he saw who were out alone, and make sure they weren’t lonely.”

Chuck winced. “Because that’s not suspicious at all.”

“He didn’t mean anything by it. He was just trying to be friendly, and someone we could talk to who wasn’t a parent or teacher. He was a good guy.”

“I believe you, but you gotta admit-”

“It made him a prime suspect, I know. But it definitely wasn’t him.”

“Okay.” Chuck accepted what Thomas was saying. “So why do you think that’s connected with your mum’s murder?”

“You remember the supermarket car park?” Chuck nodded. “After you left my place, mum told me that she thought that she’d stopped someone from kidnapping a child. She’d seen what they were doing, so they’d abandoned the attempt. If there was a chance that she could’ve recognised them, then of course they’d track her down and kill her, and framing someone else for what they’ve done seems to be their thing. Also, her bag and phone were missing when I found her. It would make sense for them to take those things if she knew something. What if she’d written something down, or told someone.”

“None of that guarantees a connection, though.”

The Revival had convinced Thomas that it _was_ connected, but that wasn’t something he was going to be able to explain. “I know. It’s just a hunch. I could be completely wrong. And it doesn’t make much difference, anyway.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Chuck stood. “Have you eaten?”

Thomas gave a tired smile. “Yeah, but I haven’t slept.”

“Figures.” Chuck opened his wardrobe and dug around inside, before pulling out a sleeping bag. “You can borrow this. I’m gonna go back downstairs and play nice. Dinner’s gonna be ready soon, so it won’t be too unusual. You get some sleep.”

“Chuck,” said Thomas. just before he could leave the room.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Thomas poured all the relief and gratitude he could into those two words.

Chuck’s face softened. “It’s no problem at all.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's that you say? a regular update schedule? i don't know her
> 
> this chapter made me genuinely sad when i wrote it, to the point where i had to stop writing and walk away so i could recover. i added the relevant tag back when i wrote it so people would be prepared, so please glance over those again before you read. i'm really sorry

When Thomas woke up, he was alone. The sun shining through the crack in the curtains told him that it was already well into the morning. He’d fallen asleep just a few minutes after Chuck had left the evening before, the lack of sleep the previous night having finally been allowed to catch up with him. He wriggled out of the sleeping bag and stood. Chuck’s bed still wasn’t made properly, but it seemed like he’d made some effort to make it look at least a little better. The book about serial killers had been moved onto Chuck’s desk. There was a handwritten note beside it.

 

_Thomas,_

_It’s probably a good idea for me to keep to my normal routine so nobody gets suspicious. I have a shift at the pizza place today, so that’s where I am. My parents won’t be back until half six, so the house is yours until then. Help yourself to food, but try not to be too obvious about it. I’ll bring you some dinner later. If you want to go out then BE CAREFUL and I’ve left a_ _spare key in the top drawer _ _. Don’t lose it !!! There’s some spare change in the green box, feel free to take some. Make sure you’re back in my room and quiet_ _before half six. _

_Chuck  : > _

 

Thomas opened the top drawer and replaced the key with the note. He didn’t want to leave it out in case Chuck’s parents came home early and they decided to come in his room for some reason, but he didn’t want to take it with him either. If he got caught while he was out then this letter would get Chuck in a lot of trouble. The key would be easier to explain away. They were friends, after all. People knew this.

Thomas kicked the sleeping bag under the bed so that it was hidden from view, and left the room.

Dry cereal definitely wasn’t the best breakfast that Thomas had ever had, but he knew that it was probably the food item that was the least likely to be missed, so he made do.

He headed to the library. There was something he needed to check.

Thomas knew that he hadn’t paid enough attention to the news throughout his life. He was aware that that made him entirely ordinary, and he shouldn’t feel bad about it, but right now it was extremely inconvenient. It meant that, instead of just being certain that his suspicions were correct, he was faced with spending all day trawling through archived newspapers from a few years ago.

Being a fugitive (and wasn’t _that_ jarring to think about?) was making him paranoid. When he walked into the library he half-expected the woman at the front desk to somehow recognise him immediately and call the police. He expected it of everyone there. But they didn’t. The woman at the front desk smiled politely, before going back to whatever she was doing on the computer. Everyone else in the building seemed to be doing their best not to disturb or even look at each other at all.

Thomas made a mental note to visit libraries more often.

He didn’t end up spending all day looking through old newspaper articles like he’d predicted that he’d have to. It only took him a couple of hours to find what he was looking for.

Three years ago, three little girls in this very city had been kidnapped and murdered. Somebody had been arrested and convicted of doing it, but that guy had, to this day, continuously protested his innocence.

The similarities were uncanny, and were enough to convince Thomas beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t wrong. This was definitely the same person. The same person who’d killed his friends, who’d killed these kids, who’d killed his mother, who’d probably killed many others besides them.

He was still no closer to knowing their exact identity.

He had to remind himself that he really needed to not draw any unnecessary attention to himself in order to resist the urge to rip the paper he was reading to shreds. Besides, if he did that then he’d have to pay for it, and he didn’t have any money to do so. (He hadn’t taken any of Chuck’s. There was only so much he could let the kid do for him.) Instead, he carefully put the paper away and sat himself at a free computer.

After secondary school he’d completely lost track of everyone. He wasn’t delusional enough to think that they could all have a happy reunion, but not knowing what had become of his friends was starting to get to him. He hadn’t seen or heard from any of them since that party. He’d spent years pretending that it didn’t matter, but spending these last few weeks with his friends had sharply reminded him of how much he loved and missed them all. He hoped that they were better off than he was. Even without the murder-suspect thing, Thomas wasn’t exactly living the high life.

He searched for Alby first.

Alby, it appeared, didn’t have much of an online presence. The only thing Thomas could find that linked to him was a Facebook profile that was set entirely to private, so he couldn’t see any details. The profile picture was definitely him, though. In the photo, Alby looked older, which was to be expected, and Thomas didn’t recognise the girl he was with. He seemed to be doing okay.

Siggy was next. He was easier to find on a few more sites. He had a Youtube account that had been used to like something as recently as the day before, and his Facebook profile was a little less strict with the privacy settings, so Thomas could see much more than he’d been able to on Alby’s. Siggy was working as a cook in a restaurant that Thomas had never heard of. A lot of people had wished him well on his recent birthday, but Siggy had only responded to one or two of them. He didn’t appear to be in a relationship.

With just one name left, Thomas hesitated. He couldn’t explain it, but he was nervous about what he might find.

Thomas _really_ didn’t remember much about that party. He mostly attributed that to being drunk, but lying to himself was pointless. He was pretty sure that he’d forgotten a lot of it simply because he’d avoided thinking about it for 11 years. If he _tried_ to remember, it would probably all come flooding back effortlessly. After all, that’s what had happened with everything else he’d recently been forced to confront.

He and Newt had spent most of that night holed up in the bathroom together. They’d talked. Seeing as they’d hardly spent any time together over the preceding seven years, they’d had a lot to talk about. Thomas had been faintly surprised at how easy it was, how they just _clicked,_ despite everything. But he also wasn’t surprised at all. He’d always been comfortable around Newt. Of course that wouldn’t have changed with the time apart.

They talked about their plans for the future, of which neither of them knew exactly what they were doing. They’d talked about how their families drove them mad sometimes. Sonya had been one of the most social girls in school, after all, while Newt was decidedly _not._ They’d talked about their own friendships, and discovered that they hadn’t ended up being particularly close with anyone else.

They’d talked about Minho.

They’d talked about each other.

Eventually, they’d stopped talking altogether.

But Thomas didn’t want to think about that. It had been over a decade since then. It didn’t matter anymore.

The last time that he’d _actually_ seen Newt, just a few days ago, in the Revival, they’d talked about the disappearances. He’d come straight to Thomas and Minho with his theory that there was a serial killer on the prowl. Come to think of it, he’d done much the same the first time around. Not that it had done them any good.

Thomas sighed and forced his fingers to type the name into the search bar.

Newton Ross...

Oh come on! The others had been _much_ easier to find. Alby had taken a little bit of digging, but he’d had a Facebook profile at least. It was almost like Newt didn’t exist.

Thomas switched tactics. Maybe Newt was just _really_ private. There was no way Sonya would be, though.

Sonya Ross was easy to find. Harriet and Miyoko were with her in her profile picture, along with another boy and girl that Thomas had never met. He didn’t worry about them, instead searching through where she’d listed her family members, trying to find Newt.

He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

He copied the date given along with Newt’s full name into Google and, finally, _finally,_ something came up.

This did not come as a relief. The ‘something’ was a series of news articles.

Thomas clicked through all of them, hoping and praying that there’d been a mistake, or he was being pranked, or _something_ that would mean that this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. There was no way. At the very least, he would’ve known. He would’ve heard about it. He wouldn’t have missed this.

He couldn’t have.

But clearly he had.

Newt had been dead for nine years.

All of the news articles talked about the 20-year-old _‘model student’_ whose body had been found in his family home by his twin sister, who was devastated, and the whole community was shocked, and nobody saw this coming, and it was a tragic loss.

Thomas felt numb as he tried to come to terms with the fact that Newt had shot himself in the head.

_And he hadn’t known._

Thomas logged off the computer as quickly as he could and ran to the nearest toilet, only just making it there before he threw up his meager breakfast.

Once he was sure that he didn’t have anything left to throw up, he hit the flush. He rinsed out his mouth at the tap. It was pretty gross, but there wasn’t anyone else there for him to be bothering, and there was no way he was going to let his mouth taste of vomit for any longer than he absolutely had to.

He didn’t realise that he’d been crying until he caught his reflection in the mirror.

He needed to pull himself together. It probably made him an awful person, but he couldn’t afford to do this. Not now. Not ever. He needed to accept Newt’s death and move the fuck on. The police still thought he was a murderer. Right now, that was more important. Grief would have to wait.

He wiped away his tears and splashed his face with water. When he was satisfied that he didn’t look like he was a hair’s breadth away from a total breakdown, he left the bathroom.

 

Lunch had been more pilfered cereal from Chuck’s family and the afternoon was spent reading one of Chuck’s books. Thomas’ mind kept wandering, but he couldn’t be bothered to reread any passages, so he didn’t actually have any idea what was going on in it. He couldn’t find it in himself to care.

When Thomas heard the front door downstairs open and close, Thomas glanced at the clock by the bed. It said that it was only half five, so he figured that Chuck must be home. He put the book back on the shelf where he’d found it and waited for his friend to arrive upstairs. He didn’t have to wait very long. Chuck came in holding a pizza, but Thomas barely noticed it. He was too focused on Chuck’s face.

There wasn’t even the slightest hint of a smile and his eyes were darkened with rage. A closer look at his hands showed that they were clenched tightly, with no regard to the structure of the box that he was holding.

“We need to go.”

“What?” asked Thomas.

Chuck started, like he’d only just realised Thomas was there. He immediately relaxed, and said, “The manager followed me here. He suspects. I kinda just yelled at him. It’s not safe for you to stay here anymore. Eat, quickly. Then we need to go.” He put the pizza box down so Thomas could reach it and crossed to his window, peering out behind the curtain.

Thomas picked up a slice. “Lawrence followed you home?”

Chuck nodded.

“He shouldn’t do that.”

“You shouldn’t be hiding from the police. I shouldn’t be harbouring a fugitive. Nobody’s exactly on their best behaviour today.”

Thomas tried to stop himself from laughing, but it didn’t last long. Relief flooded him when Chuck joined in.

“Tell you what,” said Chuck once the pizza was finished, “you go. I’ll dig up a spare backpack and get you a change of clothes. I can bring it along in a bit.”

Thomas gave him a tired smile. “That would be amazing, thank you. I’ll probably be at the underpass. You know the one?”

“Yeah, I know it. See you later, okay?”

“Okay.”


	28. Chapter 28

Thomas had said that he was going to the underpass, but by the time he was three streets away from Chuck’s house he’d changed his mind. He couldn’t explain it, but he had a bad feeling. For his own peace of mind it would be better to hang around somewhere close by. Once he saw Chuck leave he could rush ahead to their agreed meeting place.

He knew he was being paranoid, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

It shouldn’t take too long for Chuck to grab a bag and shove some clothes inside. A few minutes, at most. Well, maybe a bit longer than that, seeing as he was probably going to have to take some of his dad’s clothes, but nothing that would be notable in its absence, but enough that Thomas could change out of what he’d been wearing for nearly three days now. So yeah, it probably _would_ take a bit longer than just a few minutes.

Thomas leant against a lamp post and pretended to be looking at his (dead) phone. He snuck glances at his watch after a while. He waited a bit longer, then checked again. And again.

Okay, Chuck really _should_ be done by now.

Then Thomas heard the screams.

He dropped his phone and ran back to the house.

It was on fire.

How the _fuck_ did _that_ happen?

A small crowd was starting to form. Passers-by and neighbours stood in the middle of the road and stared at the house, all while the flames grew bigger and bigger, bathing the surroundings in an orange light and chasing away the cool evening air.

Had Chuck made it out?

Thomas whipped his head around, looking from person to person, desperately trying to find his friend.

He wasn’t there.

Chuck wasn’t _there._

He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Thomas knew he had no choice. He _moved._ Forward. He ignored the cries of the people behind him as he wrenched open the front door and ran inside.

“CHUCK!”

With an arm held over his mouth to try and limit the amount of smoke he breathed in, Thomas headed straight for the stairs. Chuck had been in his room when Thomas left, so there was a good chance that he was still somewhere up there.

When he reached the top he saw Chuck immediately. He was lying on the ground, half in his bedroom and half in the hallway. Thomas rushed over and crouched down beside him.

He grabbed Chuck’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. Thank God! He was alive! But he wasn’t showing any sign that he knew that Thomas was there. He shook Chuck’s shoulder, trying to wake him. “C’mon buddy,” he murmured, shaking him a little more forcefully. When Chuck groaned and tried to blink his eyes open, Thomas couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him as he helped Chuck get to his feet. “We need to go, you can lean on me, c’mon!”

Chuck was leaning on Thomas so much that he was practically carrying him, but that was okay. All that mattered was getting him to safety. He felt Chuck slide something into his pocket, but at that precise moment Thomas did not give a shit what it was. They needed to get out of the burning building before they choked on the smoke, or worse.

They reached the top of the stairs.

Okay, there was a slight flaw in Thomas’ plan. He could support Chuck’s weight on flat ground. It was slow going, but he could manage it. But if they were to try going down the stairs like this then they were almost guaranteed to fall.

Thomas was just about to try it anyway (it wasn’t like he had much of a choice) when he saw another figure rushing up towards them.

“Man, you’re real dumb, you know that right?”

Lawrence positioned himself on Chuck’s other side and took some of the weight off Thomas. Together they were able to maneuver him down the stairs without anyone getting dropped or injured.

“I’ve got ‘im from here. You gotta go out round the back, can’t let anyone see you.” Thomas nodded, deciding not to question why his manager was covering for him when just yesterday, and earlier today even, he'd been so eager to turn him in. “Oh, and Thomas,” Lawrence called out. Thomas stopped walking and indicated that he was listening. “Chuckie’s a good kid. Don’t drag him into your shit.”

Thomas nodded and hurried away.

He couldn’t agree more.

 

He walked aimlessly for about an hour, not stopping until he was confident that he wasn’t about to start coughing again. The taste of smoke in the back of his mouth made him feel nauseous, but there wasn’t exactly much he could do about that. All the shops were closed, and he didn’t have any money to buy anything with anyway.

He slowed to a stop next to a bridge and sat underneath it. This place would have to do for tonight. It wasn’t as good as the underpass, but it was better than nothing. At least if it rained, he’d hopefully be sheltered from the worst of it.

As he leant back against the concrete, Thomas felt something small and hard dig into his leg. He felt around to try and figure out what it was, and remembered that Chuck had slipped something in his pocket earlier, while Thomas was trying to get him out. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the thing.

It was a phone.

Specifically, it was Chuck’s phone.

Why would Chuck put his phone in Thomas’ pocket? To keep it safe? It wasn’t like he was going to be in any position to return it anytime soon. If he tried to visit Chuck at the hospital, he’d be caught in three seconds flat. Much as he wished he could check on his friend he knew it wasn’t worth the risk, and Chuck would definitely not appreciate it if Thomas got himself caught for such a stupid reason.

He absent-mindedly unlocked the phone. Chuck didn’t have a passcode set, so it opened immediately. Thomas hadn’t intended to read anything. This wasn’t his phone, after all, and going through Chuck’s messages would’ve been really rude and disrespectful. The act of unlocking the phone had just been for his hands to have something to do. It was moments away from being followed by the act of locking at again when something caught Thomas’ eye.

The message that had automatically been on the screen when the phone unlocked, and so the last thing that Chuck had looked at before the fire, couldn’t possibly be real.

Thomas stared at it for a few minutes, willing the words in front of him to change, to stop saying what they were saying.

 

**_From: Mary Cooper (Thomas’ mum)_ **

_Don’t turn around._

 

Thomas’ mother’s phone had been missing when Thomas found her body. The only person who could have it was the person who'd killed her. Who’d then sent a message to Chuck, just before he got trapped in a house fire.

Thomas suddenly understood exactly how the fuck the fire had happened.

The killer had targeted Chuck. And they were trying to frame Thomas for it. There wasn’t any other reason why they’d send Chuck that message. The police probably thought that Thomas had his mother’s phone, and if they’d seen this message they’d have assumed that the message came from him, which would make it look like he’d started that fire.

Chuck must have figured that much out for himself. _That’s_ why he’d given Thomas his phone. It was to make sure that the police didn’t find it, so they wouldn’t make the connection.

Too bad Thomas had dropped his own phone a couple of streets away and left it there. He’d probably managed to link himself to the crime without any help from the killer. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Thomas would've laughed at himself.

How exactly he got linked to it didn’t really matter, though. What mattered was that the killer had intended the link to be made.

But why frame Thomas? Were they simply taking advantage of Thomas already being a suspect in his mother’s murder? And why was Chuck targeted in all this? Nobody else knew that Chuck had been actively helping him. Not even Lawrence knew for sure, and despite how unhelpful he’d been, Thomas didn’t think that _he_ was a murderer.

But the killer definitely knew where Chuck lived.

When Thomas added that into the equation, things started to look clearer. If he made the assumption that the killer had decided to frame him for his mother’s murder from the start, then they would’ve needed to intentionally time her death so that it happened just before he got home from work. Which would mean that they would’ve needed to find out his work schedule somehow. Chuck could've been targeted for a similar reason to his mother; simply put, he’d seen too much. If somebody had been behind the counter at work who wasn’t usually there, and Chuck had seen them, then he’d probably remember it because it was unusual, which made him a witness who had to go. The opportunity to frame Thomas even further in the process was just a bonus.

But the killer had failed. Chuck was _alive._ Injured, and needing time to recover, but alive nonetheless.

And maybe, _maybe,_ he’d be able to identify the real culprit.


	29. Chapter 29

Thomas woke to the feeling of someone’s hand on his shoulder.

He jerked backwards, trying to get away as fast as possible, but only succeeding in colliding hard with the concrete wall behind him. He groaned, temporarily abandoning his escape attempt in order to try and rub some of the pain away from his head.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to startle you. You alright?”

Thomas glared up at the person who’d disturbed him. The man looked to be older than him, his face having long developed permanent frown lines and his hair going grey in places. He look familiar, somehow, but Thomas couldn’t think of where he’d seen him before.

“You’re Thomas Cooper, right?”

Thomas’ eyes widened in alarm, but he nodded slowly. Whoever this person was, there wasn’t any point lying to them. He wouldn’t be able to maintain the facade for very long. If they were planning on turning him in then it was already too late to get away.

The man gave a relieved smile. “Good. I’ve been worried about you.”

That was _not_ what Thomas had been expecting to hear. “Worried about me?”

“Your face is plastered all over the news, saying you’re wanted in connection with Mary’s murder. It’s not safe for you to be out in the open like this. Anyone could find you.”

Thomas started shaking his head. “I- I didn’t-”

The man chuckled. “I know you didn’t kill her.” He laughed again, probably at Thomas’ stunned expression, and added, “Don’t worry, neither did I.”

“Who _are_ you?”

“My name’s Vince. I used to work with your mother at the Right Arm” He looked around. “Do you want to come over to my place? You could get yourself cleaned up, and then we could talk about this properly.”

Thomas nodded his agreement. Vince helped pull him to his feet, and then they were both on their way.

Vince’s apartment was close by. The early hours of the morning meant that there wasn’t anyone else out to see them, which Thomas was insanely grateful for. He didn’t want anybody else getting into trouble or hurt for his sake.

The first thing Vince did when they got inside was point Thomas in the direction of the shower, which he gladly took advantage of. The warm spray of water felt like pure bliss on his skin. He stood under it for what felt like hours, although it was probably closer to being just 10 minutes. While showering, he tried to think if he’d ever met Vince before.

He hadn’t. Not directly, at least. His mum had often mentioned Vince in conversation, while telling Thomas about what her coworkers had gotten up to on various days. He’d also actually seen Vince from a distance pretty recently. Well, recently for him, anyway. Vince had been the guy that he’d seen talking to his mother about hiding the news reports from the kids. Thomas suddenly found himself feeling extremely glad that Vince hadn't pulled the old I-haven’t-seen-you-since-you-were-tiny shit, because he _knew_ that he’d have punched him for it, which probably wouldn’t have been helpful given his current situation.

He put on some clothes borrowed from Vince and found the man in the living room.

“Feeling better?” Vince handed a plate of food to Thomas.

“Much, thanks,” he said as he sat on the sofa and began to eat.

“So where’ve you been these past few days?”

“Around. Keeping my head down.”

Vince raised an eyebrow. “Clearly you’ve been pretty bad at that. You’re wanted for arson too.”

Thomas slumped his shoulders, putting the empty plate down next to him. “I figured that would happen. It wasn’t me though.” Thomas told Vince about the message sent to Chuck from his mother’s phone, and the conclusions that he’d drawn from it. That not only was the killer specifically trying to frame him, but that they must also know his work schedule.

Vince hummed thoughtfully. “Have you considered that this might be connected to the kidnappings that happened when you were a child?”

Thomas’ mouth dropped open. “Yeah, but how did _you_ know that?”

The corners of Vince’s mouth twitched as if he were suppressing a smile. “On the day your mother was murdered she called me saying that Jorge Fring, the man who was convicted of killing those kids, was innocent. She said that she knew who the real killer was. We arranged to meet the next day to discuss it further, but obviously that never happened.” He got a faraway look in his eyes. “I should’ve got her to tell me the bastard’s name right then and there.”

“And the killer knew she was onto them?”

Vince nodded. “It makes sense. Thing is, I was looking into it at the time. The kidnappings in your town were extremely similar to a series of kidnappings in the next town over just the year before. Someone was arrested for those too, although they’ve never stopped claiming to be innocent.”

“And even here,” Thomas added, “just three years ago some kids were kidnapped and killed, but the case was closed.”

“Exactly!” Vince stood and paced up and down. “Nobody else would listen to me when I said these cases were linked. But that’s what this person does! They kidnap and kill children, all while framing some other sucker to take the fall for them, so they’re never suspected.” He sat back on the sofa facing Thomas and sighed. “Do you want to know what the police agreed was probably the timeline of events from the night of Teresa Agnes’ kidnapping.”

Thomas didn’t, not really. He nodded anyway. He didn’t want to know, but he _needed_ to.

Vince grabbed his laptop from where it had been lying next to him, called something up on it, and winced. “I’m just gonna read it out, okay? I’m sorry if this sounds callous.” He cleared his throat and began.

“Teresa’s mother beat her daughter and locked her in the shed at around 10pm. At half past, the killer took her. They put her in the freezer at Fring’s workplace - you know, the sandwich shop? - and took pictures of her, then left her in there to freeze to death. Once she was dead, her body was dumped under the snow drifts near the woods, so she wasn’t found for weeks. Her mother noticed that she was gone at around midnight, and called Mary to ask if she’d seen her, which she hadn’t. The only real evidence that the police had linking Fring to the crime at that point was his boots. They matched footprints found leading to and away from the shed.”

Thomas nodded. “But those boots weren’t special. Anyone could’ve had the same ones, especially if they were trying to frame him.”

“That’s true. However, after a member of the public reported Fring for talking to a nine year old girl who was alone in the park, the police got statements from your classmates. Most of them said that they’d seen him talking to Teresa and the other girl, Brenda, many times. It was enough.”

“I said it wasn’t him, though. Why didn’t they pay attention to _my_ statement?”

“It was your word against everyone else’s.” Vince stood. “I’m going to go to the hospital and try and talk to your friend. Hopefully he can narrow down our suspects. Until I get back, my computer’s just here.” He tapped his laptop. “I’ve got my old reports on the case on it. You might as well take a look. You might find it helpful.”

“Are you sure you wanna get yourself involved?” asked Thomas. “It’s just...” He gave his head a small shake and continued. “Chuck got hurt because he was helping me. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else.”

Vince’s expression softened. “I’ve been trying to track this shit-head since before Teresa was murdered. And they killed Mary. I’m already involved.”

“But-”

“The only reason why they were able to get to your mother and friend is because he caught them off guard. Mary especially. If she’d known she might be attacked, I guarantee she’d still be here.”

“But, still-”

“Thomas,” Vince looked at him with a serious expression, shutting him up. “I’m going to be fine. Nobody knows that you’re here, or that I’m helping you. And if the killer _does_ try something,” Vince allowed a small smirk to creep onto his face, “I’ll be expecting them.”

Thomas allowed himself to relax. “Thank you, then. For helping.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

Thomas glanced over to the computer. “I think I _will_ look over your reports, if that’s okay?”

Vince chuckled. “I wouldn’t have mentioned them if it wasn’t.”

He left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ik this is mostly exposition but it had to be done ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	30. Chapter 30

Thomas moved the laptop to the table, sat in a chair, and began to look through. It didn’t take long for Thomas to find the files that Vince had told him about. They’d been clearly labelled and recently accessed.

 

_I have a theory that Jorge Fring suspects his own father of being the culprit, which is why he’s saying so little to the police when questioned, as he doesn’t want to implicate him. It does not help his own case at all, only making him appear more suspicious, but it’s understandable._

 

_Investigators paid special attention to statements from Teresa’s classmates, such as Newton and Sonya Ross, saying that they had seen Teresa and Jorge Fring together repeatedly. They ignored what Thomas Cooper had to say, on the grounds that his own personal relationship with Fring was colouring his judgement._

 

_Investigators came to believe that the third victim, Minho Park, was mistaken for a girl, which is why he was targeted. Following his disappearance, the police made a list of suspects, none of which knew Minho and so would not have known that he was a boy._

 

That part gave Thomas pause.

Mistaken for a girl?

Minho’s coat was bright pink. His favourite colour was pink. He’d been known for loudly defending the colour pink, and declaring that colours shouldn’t be assigned genders and that anyone should be allowed to enjoy them without judgement.

Thomas could see how the police could use the pink coat as evidence that somebody could think Minho was a girl. It was stupid logic, and even now Thomas completely agreed with Minho’s argument that colours and genders were not inherently linked. But, he understood how the police had viewed it. An onlooker could very well have thought that Minho was a girl. It had actually happened at least once.

They’d formed a list of five suspects based on the assumption that the killer didn’t know Minho, and therefore could’ve made that mistake. Jorge Fring and his father were both on it, along with three other people that Thomas didn’t know.

Chances were, Thomas thought, that the killer _did_ know Minho, and _did_ know that he was a boy. They’d probably used the fact that the police would assume that the killer had made a mistake to their advantage, in order to take themself off the list of suspects.

It didn’t take much digging for Thomas to find such an earlier list. This one was much longer, with over 20 names on it.

It was also total bullshit.

He couldn’t take it seriously. Not when it listed his mother as a suspect, along with most of his friends’ parents and the vast majority of the school’s teachers. This list was basically just any adult who’d had any chance to come into contact with Teresa, with no actual thought behind it. Thomas closed the document in disgust and leaned back on his chair. _That_ had been a complete a waste of time.

The sudden sound of a phone ringing made him jump, and his chair tipped backwards further than he’d intended it to go. He flung his arms out in a desperate attempt to balance himself, and not crash to the ground. He succeeded, but it was a close call.

The phone stopped ringing.

A few seconds passed, and it started up again.

It wasn’t Vince’s landline. Thomas looked around for a few seconds to try and locate the source of the ringing. He found it without too much difficulty.

It was Chuck’s phone.

Cautiously, Thomas reached out and accepted the call. If it was one of Chuck’s friends, he could pretend that he’d found it on the street or something. If it was a cold caller, then he could have some fun. Or he could just take the opportunity to talk to someone who didn’t know him about something unimportant for a little while. That sounded quite tempting, actually.

“Thank goodness you left it on!”

“...Chuck?”

“Yes! I need to talk to you! Meet me under the you know what.”

“Chuck, wait! Don’t go there. You should be in the hospital. You were in a house fire.”

“Pssshh, I’m fine. They patched me up and I’m good as new. I didn’t get burned or anything anyway, it was just smoke and shock. I’m all good now.”

“Still, you shouldn’t go there. It’s not a good idea for you to meet me.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll make sure I’m not followed. Promise!”

“That’s not what I mean.” Thomas sighed. “If you’re caught, then forget what it means for me, _you’ll_ get in trouble. I don’t want to cause any more problems for you than I already have.”

“Tough. We still need to figure out who’s framing you.”

“A friend of mine is already on his way to you to talk about just that.”

“Well, they’re just going to have to talk to the kid I bribed into taking my place, because I’m already out of the hospital. I’m calling from a pay phone, dude, that much should be obvious from the caller id.”

Thomas hadn’t even looked at it. “There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”

“None whatsoever.” Thomas could hear the smile in Chuck’s voice. “Oh! And don’t bring my phone with you. Just in case.”

Thomas gave in. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

Chuck didn’t say anything else, he just hung up.

Thomas sat there for a while, debating whether or not he should really go. Eventually, he decided that he’d agreed to meet, and he didn’t want to upset his friend. And after everything that Chuck had done for him, the least he could do was not be rude to him.

He switched off the computer and left Chuck’s phone next to it, along with a note explaining where he was. He didn’t grab a spare key. If he got caught while he was out, he didn’t want there to be any link to Vince. If he needed to get back in, he could easily just knock.

Thomas carefully shut the door behind him, tested it to make sure that the door wouldn’t open again, and walked away.


	31. Chapter 31

Thomas reached the underpass just a few minutes before Chuck did.

Chuck dropped to sit next to him, panting heavily. He must’ve ran most of the way there.

“I made sure I wasn’t followed, just like I promised,” he said once he’d caught his breath a bit.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

“Yup!” Chuck held his thumbs up to emphasise the point.

“You really don’t need to help me, you know.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “I know that. I _want_ to. You’re my friend, you idiot. I’m not just gonna let you get put in prison for something you didn’t do! Now, what was it your friend was gonna ask me?”

“We think that it’s pretty likely that the person who killed my mum and tried to kill you found out my work schedule, so they’d have had to have been behind the counter at work at some point. We thought that you’d been targeted because you’d seen them. So we were wondering if you could remember seeing anyone like that, and if so, do you know who they are?”

Chuck hummed in thought, and said, “Nobody’s snuck round where they weren’t supposed to be or anything. But this city council guy’s visited a few times over the last couple of days. He and Lawrence have been having meetings about the new crossing that’s being put in outside the shop, but he could definitely have gotten a good look at the rota. He’s had plenty of opportunity.”

“Do you know his name?"

“It’s Mr Llygoden.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. “How did you know how to say that?”

“I’m just repeating what I heard Lawrence call him. I don’t know if it’s right or what it’s supposed to be if it’s not.”

“It sounded like you had it.”

“What language d’ya reckon it is?”

“Haven’t got a clue.”

“Helpful,” Chuck deadpanned.

“I’m trying my best!”

Thing is, what language it was didn’t matter. There wasn’t anyone called anything like ‘Llygoden’ on any of the suspect lists.

Was he going by a fake name? No, that wasn’t possible. Chuck had said he was on the city council, and those meetings had been official business. A fake name or alias wouldn’t hold up for any length of time under that sort of scrutiny.

It was possible that he’d simply _changed_ his name. If that was the case, then he’d have to try and find some link between Mr Llygoden and whoever he’d used to be. That would take time, which wasn’t exactly something Thomas had a lot of.

Of course, Mr Llygoden could easily just be an innocent city council member without anything to do with this situation. If that was the case, they weren’t _any_ closer to finding out who was behind all this.

“You okay Thomas? You’re kinda spacing out.”

Thomas shrugged. “It’s just a bit much.” He smiled weakly. “I can’t help but feel like I’ve already failed.”

“What are you talking about?”

Telling Chuck the complete unabridged truth would probably just scare him off. There was no way that Chuck would believe him. So, he approached it from a different angle.

“I’ve written this thing. It’s not getting published or anything, I’ve tried, nowhere wants it, so don’t get excited. In the thing, there’s a group of people living in a pretty screwed up situation. It sucks, but they’re getting by alright, and they’ve got each other to lean on, which really helps. Except then one day the protagonist gets thrown into the mix. And he means well, he really does, but he disrupts the peace in a big way. He’s just trying to make things better, but he just ends up making things worse. People get hurt. They even start dying. A lot of people die, including his best friend. Everything he does to try and fix it just makes it worse, and in a few different ways it’s all his fault to begin with.”

“And you feel like you’re like the protagonist in your novel?” asked Chuck.

Thomas nodded.

“You’re dumber than I thought.”

“...What?”

“Do I look dead to you? What about your other friend who helped you today? Are they? You haven’t done anything wrong. _None_ of this is your fault. The only person at fault here is the fucker who killed your mum and tried to kill me. That wasn’t you, so how could it’ve been your fault? As for trying to make things better, there’s never anything wrong with that. It’s actually a really good thing to do! So you shouldn’t talk like you’ve already given up. It’s _way_ too early for shit like that.”

Thomas chuckled. “Language, Chuckie.”

“I’ll language you in a minute.” He glared, but there was no heat behind it.

“What does that even mean?”

“Fuck knows.” He smiled.

Thomas took a deep breath. “Thanks, Chuck. I didn’t realise how much I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, moron.”

“Hey!”

“You cannot argue with me about this. You have earned the title.”

Thomas let his head fall back against the concrete. “I guess that’s fair.”

“It’s very fair.” They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, Chuck said, “Where are you gonna be sleeping tonight?”

“I’ll probably crash at Vince’s. That’s the guy who’s supposed to be talking to you right now. He used to work with my mum.”

“What about last night?”

“I slept under a bridge.” He laughed. “That’s where Vince found me, actually. Scared me half to death when he woke me up.”

“You’d better have punched him.”

“I hit my head on the wall.”

Chuck tutted in disappointment. “Shameful.”

“Like you could’ve done any better.”

He shrugged. “You’ve got me there.”

Only then did Thomas start to notice the way that multiple cars had been pulling up on either side of the underpass. He’d been so caught up in his conversation with Chuck that he’d forgotten to pay close attention to his surroundings. Now both his exits were cut off.

He had to go.

Unfortunately, the moment that Thomas stood, people began spilling out of the cars and rushing at him.

Thomas accepted that it was over pretty much instantly. There wasn’t any point fighting them. He’d just get himself into even worse trouble.

He allowed the police officers to handcuff him, hardly listening as they told him what he was accused of (murder, attempted murder, and arson), and let them start to lead him away to the car.

Behind him, Chuck started screaming.

“No! You’ve got the wrong person! It wasn’t him! It wasn’t Thomas! I swear it wasn’t him! He wouldn’t ever do anything like that!” He choked slightly as he started to cry. “I’m sorry! I didn’t bring them here, I swear! They must’ve followed me! I’m so sorry!”

Thomas stopped walking. The two officers holding him also stopped, apparently deciding to be kind enough to let him say goodbye.

Thomas turned around as much as they would let them, and said, “It’s okay, Chuck, I know you didn’t. You’ve been a star, these last few days. Thank you for being my friend.”

Chuck went slack against the arms of the police officers who were restraining him and fell to his knees. Whether it was in despair that it was over, or relief that Thomas didn’t blame him for it, Thomas couldn’t tell. He closed his eyes and faced forwards, allowing his escorts to resume leading him away.

Then he caught sight of him.

It was only a glance, because the man was turning to face away from the commotion, but Thomas saw enough of his face to recognise him. It was the same person who Thomas had seen on his apartment stairs just before he’d found his mother’s body. The one who’d purposefully collided with him, and had then smirked nastily like he’d won something.

All at once, Thomas was sure that this was the person who’d caused all this to happen.

The man who’d so conveniently turned his face away from view was the killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i want to say a couple if things
> 
> i wrote a [brinho & newtmas safe haven oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14319360) last week, and i'm actually pretty proud of it. so if you want some humour and fluff to help you deal with the stress this might be causing you, then you should definitely check it out !!! (obvs no pressure, you don't have to)
> 
> also, this hit 100 kudos a couple of days ago and holy shit thank you all so much !!! when i started writing this i genuinely thought that only one or two people other than me would be interested in it, and i'm so happy to have been proven wrong !! ily all <3


	32. Chapter 32

The killer was standing right there. He couldn’t even be bothered to pay full attention to the situation that he’d caused. It was like he’d seen enough to be completely confident that he’d won.

How many kids had he killed over the years? How many people? How many poor suckers had been left to take the fall for it? How many other lives had been fractured and destroyed by this man’s actions?

_ “You’re doing a good thing, kiddo.” _

_ “Clearly you need someone cool like me to guide you down the right path.” _

_ “I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk to someone. We all are.” _

_ “Thank you. For sharing that with me. And for being my friend.” _

_ “I’ll give you your birthday present first thing in the morning, okay? I promise.” _

His mother, Teresa, Minho, Newt.

He couldn’t quite explain it to himself, but he felt that this man was responsible for Newt, too. If the murders hadn’t happened, then maybe they would’ve all stayed friends. Maybe things would’ve gone differently for him. Thomas had no way of knowing what Newt’s life had been like in the years running up to his death. He had no idea what he might’ve been feeling, or thinking, or what could’ve happened to him that might’ve driven him to killing himself. But Thomas was convinced that if this man hadn’t decided that he was allowed to go around murdering children, then Newt would still be alive.

As would everybody else.

...

What was he  _ doing? _

Was he really just going to let the police lock him up for a crime he didn’t commit? Was he really going to let this awful,  _ awful  _ man walk away scot free  _ again  _ just so he could go on killing?

Wasn’t that attitude exactly what Chuck had just been telling him to get rid of?

_ “You shouldn’t talk like you’ve already given up. It’s  _ way _ too early for shit like that.” _

Thomas dug his heels into the ground, refusing to move another step.

He needed to go back.

He’d never intentionally triggered a Revival before. He didn’t know how his power worked. He didn’t know how he had this ability. He didn’t know why.

But if there was ever a time when he needed a Revival to happen, it was now.

Go back.

Go  _ back! _

_ GobackgobackgobackgobackgobackGOBACK!!! _

He paid no attention to the police officers trying to drag him towards the car. They couldn’t move him. Soon this would all be undone anway.

GO

BACK

His stomach lurched.

  
  


He blinked his eyes open.

The girl turned away from the placard she’d been reading and faced him. “Tom, thanks for inviting me here. I’m really glad I came. Did you know I like coming to the museum too?”

Like he had before, Thomas shrugged in response to her question. Unlike before, he then added, “I’m glad we came here too.”

She smiled, and started walking down the hall. Thomas rushed to follow.

It had worked! He was back in the past! He had another chance to save her, to save everyone!

Thomas had no idea how any of this worked, but he didn’t think that he would get another chance. Usually Revivals would keep looping around until the problem it was focusing on was fixed. The abrupt snap back to the present after he’d failed to save them had felt like a clear Game Over, and the lack of Revivals since then despite the less-than-perfect events had had him half convinced that he’d never get another one again. It was safest to assume that by being back in the past he was already pushing his luck, and however things ended up now would be how they would remain.

He couldn’t waste it.

Teresa stopped moving, throwing out an arm to stop Thomas too. “Is that-”

“Hey shanks!”

“Sorry we’re late!” called out Siggy.

“It was all Minho’s fault!” said Alby.

Newt brought up the rear. “I told you I’d drag them here if I could, didn’t I?”

Thomas smiled. Words couldn’t express how happy he was to see everyone. He settled on just saying what he had before. “Yeah, you did. I’m glad you made it.”

Newt frowned. “Are you alright?”

Damn his perceptiveness. “Yes! Of course!” Thomas hurried to wipe away the tears that were threatening to spill over.

“You don’t look it.” Newt was starting to sound genuinely concerned for him, which was  _ so _ not the goal here.

“Tom’s just super relieved you guys showed up because he was worried you’d all be lonely, sitting at home alone when we could’ve been hanging out as a group.”

Thomas shot Teresa a thankful smile, and she winked in return. It was really cool of her to cover for him, despite her not knowing why he was reacting in the way he was. He’d pretty much managed to compose himself by now, anyway, and nobody else seemed to notice that anything had been wrong.

“We weren’t just sitting at home alone!” Minho huffed, crossing his arms. “We had things we needed to do!”

“Like what?” Newt had evidently decided to let the matter drop, and instead rose to the bait that Minho had left out.

If his subsequent spluttering was anything to go by, Minho hadn’t expected to be challenged.

“Stuff! And things! They were very important!”

Alby clapped his hand on Minho’s shoulder, grinning. “I’m sure they were, Min. That’s why Newt was able to drag us here so easily.”

“Just because he’s everyone’s favourite-”

“Um,” Siggy interrupted. “As important as this conversation surely is, I’m getting kinda hungry. What are we doing for food?”

Newt hummed in thought. “There’s that new cafe down the road. We could go there.”

“I don’t have any money with me,” said Alby. “Food kinda slipped my mind.”

“I don’t have any either,” said Teresa.

“That’s okay,” said Thomas. “Mum gave me money for today, so I can pay for all of us.”

Minho cheered.

“Are you sure?” Teresa asked quietly.

“Yeah I am. Don’t worry about it.” Thomas grabbed her hand, gave it a quick reassuring squeeze, and let go.

The group left the museum and started to walk down to the cafe that Newt had suggested.

Thomas let the others walk a few paces ahead of him, watching them talk to each other.

They were alive, and happy, and in front of him, and  _ alive. _

He wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to any of them ever again. He didn’t care what it cost him. He didn’t care what he might have to do. Whatever the price was, he’d pay it without hesitation.  _ Nobody  _ was going to be allowed to hurt his friends ever again.

“Hey, Tommy?”

Newt’s voice startled Thomas out of his thoughts. He hadn’t noticed him slip back to walk beside him. “What’s up?”

“I was just wondering, did you read that book I lent you yet?”

“...Huh?”

“Poe’s ‘The Switched Man’? I gave it to you a couple of weeks ago, remember?”

Thomas slowly shook his head. “No, sorry, I haven’t got to it yet.”

Newt smiled gently, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s really good. You should check it out this weekend.”

“I’ll make sure to.”

Newt nodded, smiled for real, and joined back in with whatever conversation the others were having.

That was strange. Newt hadn’t asked after a book last time. Maybe seeing Thomas getting a little overwhelmed had reminded him about it.

Thomas needed to be careful about that. He could only change the future if he knew what was coming. He couldn’t afford to let too much slip, otherwise he could lose everyone all over again.

Of course, now he needed to find this book that he had absolutely no memory of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh time travel is hard to write, there are so many details i have to get right bc if thomas doesn't do smth to affect events then they need to be exactly the same as before, which means i have reread my own writing very carefully to make sure i've got it right


	33. Chapter 33

“I’m home!” Thomas called out as he walked through the door.

“Hey kiddo, did you guys have fun?” Thomas’ mother looked round towards him from where she was standing in the kitchen, making dinner.

Thomas didn’t respond.

It felt stupid, getting emotional about seeing his mother again. But just a few hours ago she’d been  _ dead  _ and now she wasn’t anymore. She was standing in front of him, smiling, asking about his day like everything was fine. And everything  _ was  _ fine. Thomas was going to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

“Are you alright?” She turned the heat on the stove down and walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Did you and Teresa have a fight?”

Thomas hadn’t even realised that he’d started crying. But he was, and once he was aware of it the tears just started coming faster and harder.

“Okay, come sit, let it all out.” She gently but firmly steered Thomas towards the table. He sat in a chair, and she squeezed his shoulder before quickly leaving to grab a box of tissues. She offered him the box, and he grabbed a handful.

He didn’t know how long he cried for. It was probably only for a few minutes, but it felt like it lasted a lot longer. His mother stayed by his side the whole time.

When it became clear that the tears were finally coming to an end, she said, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Yes. 

No. 

Kinda. 

It didn’t matter what he wanted, he  _ couldn’t  _ explain. “There wasn’t a fight. Everything’s good. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“You sure?”

Thomas nodded.

His mother pulled the chair next to him out from under the table and sat. She looked at him with a serious, but not unkind, expression. “There doesn’t have to be one clear reason for it. Sometimes it’s just lots of little things that build up. Tears don’t even have to come from sadness. It could be relief, or happiness, or exhaustion, or anything. And you don’t have to understand exactly what’s making you cry. Sometimes, it’s better to just let it happen.” Her expression changed to a slight smile. “It’s not actually all that unusual for kids your age to start crying for no reason.”

Thomas giggled softly. “Mum,  _ please  _ don’t go there.”

She ruffled his hair. “My little boy’s growing up so fast.”

_ “Mum!” _ It was only a token complaint. He knew that his actual 10 year old self would’ve been genuinely embarrassed by the direction this conversation was threatening to go in, and by the affection he was being shown. But he was not that person anymore. He couldn’t be. Not after everything.

“How was your day?”

Thomas smiled. “It was great! The museum was almost empty so Teresa and I pretty much had the place to ourselves. It was kinda creepy, but also really cool! The others showed up and we all went to get lunch, then we went back and looked around some more.”

She chuckled. “I thought the others were all too busy to show up?”

“Newt was the only one who actually had a reason. The rest was Minho’s fault. But Newt finished his thing early and dragged the others along.”

She nodded. “Of course he did. He doesn’t strike me as someone with a high tolerance for...” She trailed off.

Thomas figured that the missing word in her sentence was ‘bullshit’, and grinned. “Don’t worry, I get it, I know what you mean. And you’re right.” He slid off of the chair. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all. Now, off you go. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

“Okay!” Thomas sped towards his room.

Unfortunately, his efforts tidying it on his birthday morning had been reversed along with the rest of time. He wasn’t surprised to see the state of his bedroom, but still. It was exasperating.

_ And  _ he had to find Newt’s book. Even if he wasn’t going to get a chance to read it, he still needed to return it.

He decided to kill two birds with one stone. By cleaning his room he would inevitably end up looking over every inch of it, so he’d find wherever he must have dropped it when he first took it home. Because apparently just putting it on the shelf had been too difficult for him the first time.

It wasn’t on the floor.

It wasn’t on the desk.

It wasn’t in any of the drawers.

It wasn’t under the mattress, or under his bed, or in the wardrobe.

Hell, it wasn’t even in his schoolbag.

After dinner he went back to searching. He half attempted to tidy as he went, but he stopped pretending that that was his primary goal.

Where was the book?

It really would’ve helped if he could remember what it looked like, but he couldn’t. It also really would’ve helped if he could google it, but he didn’t have a computer.

Eventually he ventured out of his room to see if it had ended up somewhere else in the apartment.

It hadn’t.

His bedroom was now completely tidy, and Thomas was now 100% certain of where everything in his childhood home was. Probably more so than he had ever been in his life.

All except for the book he was supposed to be reading and returning to Newt.

He didn’t understand why he was so upset about it. All that he’d need to do was to apologise to Newt about it on Monday and then buy him a new one at some point. It wasn’t a big deal.

It felt like a big deal.

Thomas flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. He knew that Newt wouldn’t be mad at him over it. He’d probably just laugh and tell him to at least read the new copy before giving it to him.

He supposed that this was getting to him because he’d really wanted these next few, crucial days to go perfectly. But he’d failed at that before he’d even begun.

He shook his head sharply to banish the thought. It was just a book. It hadn’t even been mentioned last time around, so it clearly didn’t make that much difference. Him having lost a book wasn’t going to get Teresa and Minho killed. It definitely couldn’t lead to Newt killing himself nearly a decade on from now.

He was panicking over nothing.


	34. Chapter 34

Monday morning came too quickly.

Thomas already knew that Teresa would be in on time, so unlike last time he wasn’t freaking out about that. He was freaking out about something else. Like last time, Beth hadn’t arrived yet, so Newt was sitting in her seat, and Thomas couldn’t figure out what was the matter with himself. All he needed to do was tell Newt that he’d lost the book, apologise, and promise to replace it. But every time he tried to say something the words wouldn’t come.

“You okay?” Newt eventually asked.

Before Thomas could respond, Minho hopped up onto the desk and lay down. “What he means,” he said, “is ‘slim it, shank, you’re freaking us out.’ What’s got you so worked up anyway?”

Thomas stopped bouncing his leg. “It’s nothing.”

Newt placed a hand on his shoulder. “It clearly isn’t. You can tell us, you know.”

“Hi Tom! Hey Minho, Newt!”

The three boys looked up at the new voice.

“Hi Teresa,” said Newt. “You’re early today.”

“I’m on time.”

“For you, that’s early.”

Teresa shrugged and leaned over to look at Newt’s open sketchbook. “What’cha drawing?”

He glanced down. “I’m not sure yet.” The page was empty except for a single sketched circle in the top right corner.

“Newt,” Thomas said before Minho could jump in with his suggestion, “I’m really sorry, but I couldn’t find that book you lent me. I promise I’ll get you a new one really soon.”

Newt’s eyes widened. “Shuck, Tommy, is _that_ what’s been gettin’ you so worked up?”

Thomas shrugged in such a manner as to say that yes, it was.

Newt closed his sketchbook and put it in his bag, then gently took hold of Thomas’ arm and stood, taking him with him. “C’mon, I need to talk to you in private.”

Thomas let Newt lead him out of the classroom. They kept walking until they reached the stairs, at which point Newt stopped and sat on the top step, taking Thomas down with him. He didn’t remove his hand from Thomas’ arm.

“I really am sorry about the book, Newt. I looked really hard for it! I have no idea where it could’ve gone.”

“Tommy, slim it. _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t realise it would upset you this much.”

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s _your_ book that I-”

Newt sighed and brought his free hand up to his mouth, like he was about to start biting his nails. Thomas stopped talking and reached over to pull it away before he could do so. It had been a very long time since Thomas had had to step in to stop him from doing that, but he’d used to do it all the time.

Newt flashed him a grateful smile, that turned apologetic when he started to speak. “I never lent you a book. It’s not real. I made it up. I wasn’t trying to upset you, and I’m really sorry that that’s what ended up happening, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“...What?”

Newt let go of Thomas’ arm and put his head in his hands. “I didn’t know what else to do because you’ve been... How do I put this? You’ve been different these last couple of weeks. It’s like you care more about what’s going on around you. It’s not like you weren’t friendly before, because you were! I could tell you were trying really hard! But recently you’ve seemed to be much more genuine about everything.” Newt stood and walked down a few steps. He laughed slightly. “It sounds kinda dumb when I say it out loud, doesn’t it? It’s true, though. And if you were my best friend before, well, I’m pretty sure that I like this new you even better.”

Newt turned to face him. He had to look up because Thomas still hadn’t moved from where he was sat on the top step. “But all that still begs the question... Who are you? What’s going on? Because you _are_ different from how you used to be. Like with this thing with Teresa. I’d noticed that she often had bruises, but I never said anything. I’m not even sure why. Maybe I just thought that it wasn’t any of my business and that there wasn’t much I could do about it anyway. But the moment you realised that something was wrong you _did something._ ” He broke his gaze away and looked at the floor. “That took guts. I wish I could’ve been brave like that.” He looked back up at Thomas. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s been going on with you or not?”

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Part of Thomas desperately wanted to tell Newt everything. He wanted to tell him all about the Revivals, and the killer, and how critical these next few days would be in shaping the rest of their lives. Newt had figured out so much for himself already that he might even believe him if he did.

But he couldn’t. If he told Newt the complete unabridged truth right now he ran the risk of losing him as a friend. There was no way he was going to do anything that could potentially cause that to happen.

Newt was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a response. For him to say something. _Anything._

“I’m a superhero.”

Thomas’ brain gave him the most sarcastic round of applause it ever had because wow, that was quite possibly the dumbest thing he’d ever said in his entire life, including every single Revival ever. Yeah, it was kinda accurate, but it also made him sound childish, full of himself, and maybe even a little unhinged.

“Or, at least, I wanna be?” he tacked on, hoping that that would soften the blow of the idiocy of what he’d just said.

Newt simply stared at him for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter. “Sure, okay, you’re a superhero. I guess that confirms it.” He walked back up to the top, sat down next to Thomas, and flung his arm around his shoulder. “You’re definitely the same Tommy you’ve always been.”

“That’s good to know?”

Thomas’ questioning tone set Newt off laughing again. After a couple of seconds, Thomas joined in.

“You’re right, though,” said Thomas once they’d managed to calm down.

“Which bit am I right about?”

“Teresa. I noticed something’s wrong and I couldn’t just sit there and let it happen. I know for a fact that her mother’s abusing her, and she’s gonna die real soon if I don’t keep her safe.”

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

Newt hugged Thomas to him even tighter for a second, then withdrew his arm so that he could turn to face him head on. His expression was serious, like he wanted Thomas to listen carefully to what he was saying. “You say you want to be a superhero, but the fact that you’re so determined to help Teresa means you already _are_ one.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would.”

Newt shook his head. “I noticed something was wrong but did nothing, and I’m pretty sure that what most people would do, too. But I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to help.”

“Help? With Teresa?”

“If that’s okay?” His voice suddenly sounded uncertain, like he was bracing himself to be rejected.

“Of course it’s okay!” Thomas broke into a huge grin. “I’d love that!”

Newt visibly relaxed. “Good that.”

Thomas stood and held his hand out to help Newt up, which he accepted. The two began walking back to the classroom as they talked.

“The first thing is to make sure she’s at home as little as possible. She’s mostly been doing that by herself, but at weekends we’ve gotta-”

He abruptly stopped talking.

They were stood in the classroom doorway. The rest of their class were already sitting in their seats and had all turned around to stare at them.

“Newt, Thomas,” said Mr Janson, “where have you two been? I was just about to mark you as absent.”

They mumbled their apologies and rushed to their seats and quickly and quietly as they could.


	35. Chapter 35

After school that day, Newt joined Thomas, Teresa, and Minho on their trip to the park to check on the snowman. Like before, it was still mostly intact, with just a little bit of button-related maintenance needed to make it look as good as new. Details like this staying the same reassured Thomas that he could rely on his memory of events to go the same unless _he_ did something differently. It meant that he could plan out what to do without having to worry too much about the what-ifs.

The next day was March 1st, the original Day X, and like before he walked to school with Teresa. The day passed without any major incidents. Minho teased them about their clear undying love for each other. Siggy managed to get the whole class to yell at him at lunchtime when he opened a window, because it was _far_ too cold outside for windows to be opened, what was he _thinking?_ Beth didn’t talk to anyone else at all. Newt’s drawing of Big Ben and Westminster Palace did _not_ materialise, due to Minho never having suggested that he do it. As far as Thomas knew, that page of Newt’s sketchbook was still just a single circle in the corner.

At the end of the school day, Teresa didn’t try to leave school as fast as possible. Instead, she walked to Thomas’ desk and waited for him to finish putting his stuff away.

“Are we going to the park again today?”

Thomas zipped his bag shut and stood. “I was thinking we could all go to the children’s centre instead. It’ll be warmer.”

“How does that place even work?”

“It’s like a library, but with toys and games instead of books.”

“Won’t it be busy?”

“You’d think so, but it never is.”

Newt had been tasked with getting Minho onboard for a trip to the children’s centre, which he’d clearly managed because they chose that moment to join them at Thomas’ desk.

“We heading out?” asked Newt.

They all nodded, and the four of them walked out of school and started their journey to the children’s centre.

“So, Newt, this is the second day in a row that you haven’t gone home with your sister,” said Minho. “Tell me, how’s she coping?”

Newt laughed. “She’s coping just fine. We’re not joined at the hip, you know.”

“Yeah, but what’s she doing with herself now that you’ve finally realised that we’re a much better option for you to spend your time with?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “While I’m with you dumb shanks, she’s with _her_ friends. You remember Harriet, right? Miyoko?”

“Course I do. Hey, didn’t you have a crush on Harriet back-”

“Slim it or I promise they’ll never find your body.”

Minho held up his hands in surrender. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

Thomas ground to a halt. Newt was the first to notice that he’d stopped, but the others quickly realised too as he turned to see what he was doing.

“Sorry,” said Thomas, “but I forgot something. You go on without me! I’ll meet you there!”

Without waiting for a response, Thomas spun around and began running back towards the school. When he was sure that he was out of sight of the others, and that nobody had decided to follow him, he changed direction and began heading towards the park.

He hadn’t forgotten anything. There was someone he needed to see.

“Hey hermano!”

Jorge was right where Thomas had known he would be. “Hi!”

“How’ve you been getting on? It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Does it?” Thomas laughed nervously. Jorge had _no_ idea. “Yeah, I guess it does. I’m doing good. How’ve you been?”

“All good here. My dad’s being a bit of a pain, but that’s normal.”

“Oh, how come?”

“He wants to redecorate his bedroom, which is fine, but it means that it’s gonna get pretty chaotic at home soon.”

Huh, Jorge must’ve been more annoyed about it than he was making himself out to be if that was the first thing he could think of to talk about. But it presented Thomas with the perfect opening for one of his questions. “Which room’s your dad’s?”

“His bedroom faces the street, on the far right corner.”

“Doesn’t that get noisy?”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s actually pretty quiet in that part of town. Traffic doesn’t pass by all that often.”

“That’s good.” It was, but for another reason. Thomas just had one more thing he needed to check. “Hey, Jorge, do you spend a lot of time with a girl called Teresa?”

“Not so much recently, but yeah I know her.”

“Well, the reason you haven’t seen her recently is probably because me and my friends have become her friends, so we’ve been hanging out with her after school.”

“Really?” Jorge grinned. “That’s completely freaking awesome! Good going, hermano!”

It was the closest Thomas had ever heard Jorge come to swearing in front of him. To be fair, it wasn’t really all that close at all, but usually he was so careful not to that it still took Thomas by surprise.

He kept talking to Jorge for a few minutes, before saying that he’d agreed to meet his friends somewhere and saying goodbye. He liked talking to Jorge, and would have to make sure to spend some actual time with him at some point, but for now the conversation had served its purpose. He’d found out what he’d needed to know.

Thomas practically ran to the children’s centre. He quickly signed in, noticing that Alby and Siggy were here too, and pushed the door to the main room open.

It was empty.

He was confused for a moment, before he noticed what was written on the whiteboard.

_Tommy, we’re in the sports hall :D   -Newt_

He smiled to himself. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that Newt had been the one to remember that Thomas wouldn’t know where they’d gone.

He pushed the door to the hall open to see his friends playing some kind of makeshift game with a basketball. Teresa’s abnormal luck on this day appeared to be holding strong, because the boys were all loudly complaining that there was no way she could’ve actually scored as much as she had, so she _had_ to be cheating. To which she was responding by simply scoring again.

Last time, when it had just been Thomas and Teresa, they’d spent the whole evening playing board games. Teresa had won every single one of them, and they’d chatted about crushes, among other things. Of course, with more people here, the evening’s events had changed.

Thomas needed to be more careful. He needed to make sure he didn’t do anything that was too different from last time, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to rely on things happening in the same way as they had before. If he couldn’t rely on things being the same, then saving Teresa and Minho would become a lot harder, and he couldn’t afford to fuck it up.

But at the same time, a game of something-involving-a-basketball with his friends couldn’t hurt.

“You just gonna stand there, Tommy? Or are you joining in?”

Thomas caught the ball that was thrown at him. “Tell me how to play.”


	36. Chapter 36

Thomas didn’t wake up stupidly early on his birthday this time, but the rest of the day went by in much the same way as it had before. Newt reminded Sonya that he wouldn’t be there after choir, to which she responded with annoyance. Mr Janson asked Thomas and Teresa to help him move some boxes, and their friends were already gone by the time they were done. Thomas had a sneaking suspicion that their friends had asked Mr Janson to distract them while they left, to buy them time to organise for the party, but he couldn’t be sure. Thomas and Teresa went to the supermarket and bought the pizzas. Party poppers were released over their heads as they came in through the door.

“Thomas, Teresa, happy birthday!”

Like before, Thomas let Newt put one of the party hats on his head and presents were exchanged in Thomas’ room. Teresa’s joy at having a proper birthday celebration, and her reaction to the teddy bear keyring that Thomas had got for her, made Thomas feel a complicated mixture of emotions that he couldn’t quite put a name to.

He wasn’t going to let her down again.

Once the pizza had been finished, it was time. It was finally safe for him to start making big changes to the future.

Thomas’ mother started cutting up Teresa’s cake. They were all going to have some of that one, seeing as she wouldn’t be able to take it home. Thomas remembered how delicious it had been, and for a moment wanted nothing more than to stay there and have a slice. But there was something he needed to do.

“Mum, I forgot something at school! I need to go get it.”

“What, now?”

Thomas stood and grabbed his coat. “Yeah, it’s important. I’ll be right back!” He was out of the door before she could respond.

It didn’t take him long to reach Jorge’s house, and it took even less time to find a suitably-sized rock nearby. He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and wrapped it around the rock. Then, he threw the rock at the window of Jorge’s father’s bedroom. The moment the rock left his fingers, he spun around and ran, safe in the knowledge that he’d aimed perfectly. The tinkle of breaking glass behind him confirmed it, as did the angry yells. Thomas didn’t look back.

The police would be the perfect alibi for Jorge. If he failed, if he couldn’t save her, at least Jorge wouldn’t take the fall for it.

There wasn’t even anything written on the paper. He’d briefly considered writing something threatening, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to get the police there, not to actually scare or upset Jorge or his family. By wrapping the paper around the rock he’d made it clear that it was deliberately thrown. That would be enough.

Once he felt that he was far enough away, he slowed to a walk. That _should_ be all he needed to do for now...

He saw a woman walking just ahead of him.

He quickly realised that the woman was Teresa’s mother.

She reached the bridge that was just up ahead of them. She clearly hadn’t noticed that Thomas was walking a few paces behind her. He followed her up and across, and stood at the top of the steps on the other side as she started to walk down them.

Surely this was the perfect opportunity to make sure that she couldn’t ever hurt Teresa again. Just one push was all it would take.

Thomas reached out. His fingers just brushed her back. All he needed to do was sharply straighten his arm and she would go tumbling down the stairs. She wouldn’t be an issue anymore.

He was going to do it.

He _would_ do it.

Just one push...

Except somebody grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back at the last second.

“I know what you’re thinking, Tommy, but don’t. What if you killed her?”

The moment was gone. She was out of his range now. He watched as she reached the bottom of the stairs and walked away out of sight.

He turned around to face the person who’d stopped him. Newt looked unapologetic. “You’d only have caused more problems. Surely you know that.”

Thomas slumped his shoulders forwards. “Yeah, I know.” He walked to the side so that he wouldn’t be in the way of anyone walking by, and slid to sit on the steps, leaning up against the railing. Newt quickly joined him. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t just happen to see you here. I was kinda worried, so I followed you.”

Thomas gave a slight grin. “I figured that much. You’re supposed to be eating cake at mine right now. What did you tell them you were doing?”

“I said that it was too late and dark for you to be walking across town on your own, and that I’d go with you. Which wasn’t a lie, by the way. I decided to follow instead of catching up when I saw that you weren’t actually going back to school.” Newt looked at him with concern. “Are you gonna explain why you threw a rock at someone’s window?”

A police car whizzed past on the road beneath them, sirens blaring. Once it had gotten a good distance away, Thomas said, “I wanted the police to be there tonight. It’s to help someone.” Thomas drew his legs to his chest and hugged them tightly. “And it’s kinda to do with Teresa, as well. I knew that tonight’s when she’s gonna be in the most danger. But if something goes wrong, and I can’t save her, then I wanted the police to be at that house so that they know it wasn’t anything to do with them.”

Newt gently placed his hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Tommy,” he said, “how could you know that? What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s...” Thomas had to physically stop himself from just telling him everything. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“I’m willing to listen.”

“You probably won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Newt’s eyes were filled with so much sincerity, concern, and trust, that Thomas was momentarily lost for words. He desperately wanted to tell him the truth. But how could he?

“Tommy,” said Newt after it became clear that Thomas didn’t know what to say, “it’s okay. It’s just me. I promise, whatever it is, I’ll believe you, and I won’t tell anyone else.”

Thomas gulped, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

“You know how I said that I wanted to be a superhero?” He waited for Newt’s nod, then continued. “Well, I can do this thing. It’s kinda like a superpower. It’s complicated, and I don’t really wanna go into specifics right now because I seriously don’t know how, but it means that I know a bit about how the future’s gonna go. Not much, but enough. I know that something really bad’s supposed to happen to Teresa tonight, but I won’t let it happen.”

“...The other day you said that she’d die if you didn’t do something.”

Thomas nodded.

“You weren’t talking about her mother?”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know who it is, but there’s somebody in this town who wants to kill kids. And if I don’t make sure that Teresa’s safe then he’s gonna start with her. Tonight.”

“Kids, plural?” Newt waited for Thomas to nod, then said, “Who else is at risk?”

“Teresa’s the one in the most danger right now. I can worry about the others when I know for sure that she’s safe.”

“We.”

“Huh?”

“ _We_ can worry about the others after making sure that she’s safe. I’m supposed to be helping you, remember? So let me help.”

“...You believe me?”

“Of course I do. I said I would, didn’t I? I’m expecting you to explain everything properly at some point, but it doesn’t have to be now. I can tell how hard it was for you to even tell me that much.”

Thomas felt his eyes starting to water. He hadn’t realised how scared he’d been, or how much keeping everything a secret had been hurting him, until he’d said some of it out loud.

“Shuck, Tommy, are you crying?”

The noise that escaped from Thomas’ mouth at that point was half a sob, and half laughter. “Thank you. It means a lot, you believing me.” Tears started coming down harder. “It really does.”

Newt smiled and pulled Thomas into a hug. “Just don’t do anything that’ll get you arrested, okay? Your mum’ll kick your butt if you do.”

Thomas smiled into Newt’s shoulder and shook his head. “Nope! She’d take one look at what I was doing and say I was doing a great job.”

Newt laughed and broke the hug. He grinned as he said, “You’re probably right. Your mum’s so cool.”

“She is! And besides, even if she did get mad, I wouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter what happens to me, so long as Teresa’s safe.”

Newt’s smile faded away. “So,” he said decisively. “What’s the plan?”


	37. Chapter 37

When they got back to Thomas’ apartment, they found that by some miracle the others had left them a slice each, so Thomas _did_ get to enjoy another slice of the Greatest Cake Ever. If anything it tasted even _better_ the second time around.

Once Newt had finished eating his slice, he said that he had to leave early, and left. Everyone else continued having fun and celebrating for a little while longer. Eventually, however, the evening had to come to to an end, and people had to go. Minho and Alby offered to clean up while Thomas walked Teresa home. This time, he remembered his coat, so he wasn’t shivering incessantly as they walked.

They were halfway to Teresa’s house when Thomas stopped walking. Teresa carried on for a few steps before she noticed.

“What is it, Tom?”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but would you let me kidnap you?”

“Kidnap me? What are you talking about?”

“Instead of you going home, I was thinking that I’d take you somewhere else.”

“For how long?”

“However long it takes for things to get sorted for you.”

She only took a couple of seconds to think. “Okay.” She looked at Thomas with steel in her eyes. “Kidnap me.”

Thomas led her away from both of their homes, past the school, all the way to the other school in their town, Scorch Primary. At the bottom of the field was an old school bus. It had been there for a few years, without being moved or anyone using it. The kids at the school weren’t allowed to come down this far, so the likelihood that she’d be discovered here was low.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is this really a good idea?”

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Newt walking out of the bus. “There you shanks are! C’mon, I’m getting it all set up.” He turned around and went back inside.

“I think you’ve been a bad influence on him,” said Teresa, as they followed him in.

“The bus was entirely his idea,” said Thomas. “I was just gonna hide you under my bed or something.”

“Tommy hadn’t exactly considered the details. His plan was somewhat incomplete.” Newt gestured around them. “Like it?” The first few rows of the bus had boxes stacked on the seats. Newt had hung up a sheet a few rows from the back, effectively blocking that area off. The back row had a portable heater in the corner and a sleeping bag spread out across the seats. The windows had been half covered by taped up bin bags. “Barely anyone ever comes here. Scorch uses this for storage, but everything’s up at the front so even if someone does come in they’re not likely to see you.”

Thomas grabbed some tape and helped Newt finish covering up the windows. Once they were done, they stepped back to admire their handiwork.

“This okay for you?” asked Thomas.

Teresa sat on the back row. She nodded. “I like it.”

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it!” Newt grinned. “You’ve got everything you need, and-”

“What about when I need to pee?” Teresa interrupted.

Newt took it in his stride. “Okay, you’ll have to go outside for that, but you’re right next to a load of trees and the bus itself so it’s not like anyone will be able to see you. Other than that, you should be good. It’s not exactly a proper house, but having a proper house doesn’t necessarily guarantee happiness.”

“No, it doesn’t,” agreed Teresa.

“Anyway,” said Newt, “I should get going. It’s getting kinda late, and my parents will get worried if I’m not home soon.”

“Same here,” said Thomas. “But I’ll be back really early tomorrow morning, okay? I’ll bring food, and I’ll knock on the door three times before coming in so that you know it’s me.”

Teresa nodded. “That sounds great. Really great.” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears as she said, “Thank you. So, so much.”

Newt’s smile softened. “Teresa,” he said, “we’re your friends. You don’t have to thank us. Ever.”

“We’re gonna keep you safe, no matter what,” said Thomas. “I promise.”

With that, they said their goodbyes for the night, and the boys left the bus.

For a while they didn’t talk, with Thomas walking just a couple of paces ahead of Newt.

Then Newt broke the silence by gently punching Thomas on the shoulder. “Way to lay on the charm,” he said as he jogged a little to catch up.

“Like you can talk.” Thomas grinned. “ _'_ _We’re your friends. You don’t have to thank us. Ever.’_ You sounded like you were about to ask her out or something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Newt rolled his eyes. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Huh?”

“Why wouldn’t you ask her out?”

Newt sighed. “Because, you dumb shank, I don’t have a crush on Teresa, so it wouldn’t be all that smart of me to ask her out. Why d’ya ask?”

Thomas shrugged. He didn’t really know why he was asking about it, but he supposed he was committed to the conversation now. “Teresa said the other day that she thought you have a crush on someone. She seemed pretty disappointed when I didn’t immediately ask her who she thought it was.” That particular conversation had been undone by the Revival, but he left that part out.

Newt looked down at his feet as they walked, laughing somewhat nervously. “Yeah, well, thanks for not pressing her on that, Tommy.”

“Has she talked to you about it?”

Newt nodded. “Yesterday lunchtime, while you were talking to Minho, she dragged me off to confront me about it. Stubborn shank wouldn’t give up until I admitted it.” He sighed. “She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Shit. If Newt got upset at Teresa over something that hadn’t even happened in this timeline, it could cause all sorts of trouble. “Technically, she didn’t. She probably doesn’t even remember what she told me, and it was just that you have a crush on _someone._ Nothing was said about _who_ exactly. And don’t worry, I’m not gonna force you to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s entirely your business.”

Newt looked at him, the relief clearly visible on his face. “Thanks, Tommy.”

Thomas smiled. “Thank _you_ for setting up the bus for her. It was an amazing idea!”

Newt shook his head. “What I said to her applies to you, too. You’re my friend. You don’t need to thank me for anything.”

“Fine, I’ll stop thanking you for all the amazing things you do if _you_ stop thanking me for everything, too. Good that?”

Newt laughed. “Alright, good that.”

They shook on it.

“Besides,” began Thomas, “getting her in there was the easy bit. The hard part’s still ahead of us.”

“Yeah,” agreed Newt.

“Hey, Newt, can you do something for me?”

“What?”

“If something goes wrong, or if this backfires somehow, I need you to pretend you had nothing to do with it. You didn’t know anything, okay? You weren’t involved.”

Newt hesitated. “Tommy..?”

“Good that?” Thomas insisted.

Newt gave in. “Good that,” he said, but he didn’t look happy about it. This time, there was no handshake.


	38. Chapter 38

By the time Thomas had walked Newt home and returned to his own, it had gotten very late at night.

“There you are,” said his mother as he walked in. She was sitting at the table, a mug resting in her hands. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming home.” She was smiling, so hopefully she hadn’t been _too_ worried. Thomas couldn’t quite tell.

“Sorry! Teresa and I stopped on the way and we started talking and we kinda lost track of time.” He hung his coat up and said, “I bet Teresa’s mother was worried, too. Did she call you or something?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Okay.” Last time around, when Teresa’s mother realised that her daughter had disappeared from the shed, she called Thomas’ mother asking if she was there, pretending that Teresa hadn’t gotten home at all.

This time, when Teresa really _hadn’t_ make it home, she'd done nothing.

Thomas’ actions were already impacting the future.

“I need to go into school early tomorrow morning, so don’t worry about making breakfast for me. I’ll take the leftover pizza.” Last time around, there hadn’t been any pizza left. He’d made sure to buy more this time around so that there would be.

His mother seemed a little confused, but didn’t question him.

 

Thomas was up at half four and out of the door before five. He hoped he hadn’t woken his mother up, but being quiet was the furthest thing from his mind. He needed to see Teresa for himself as soon as possible.

He reached the bus in record time and knocked three times on the door before stepping inside.

“Did I wake you?”

Teresa shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Thomas sat next to her. “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise, Tom. I’d much rather be here and awake than be sleeping at home.”

“...Do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked down at her feet. “Not really. You pretty much already know everything that’s been going on, anyway. What good would talking about it do?”

“It might make you feel better?”

She laughed, but it lacked humour. “I doubt it. At least, not yet.”

“Okay,” said Thomas, “but if and when you do? I’m here for you. All of us are.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Do you really think Minho and that have any idea what’s been going on?”

Thomas shrugged. “It hasn’t exactly been a major topic of conversation, but I guess it’s possible. I didn’t know that Newt knew until a couple of days ago.”

“How’d that conversation go?”

“He told me I’d been acting strange and demanded that I explain myself.”

“I should’ve known.” She grinned. “Of _course_ he’d notice if something was up with you.”

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed, “he’s weirdly observant sometimes.”

Teresa sighed and muttered something in response.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Tom, don’t worry about it.”

“...Okay.” Thomas reached into his bag and pulled out the pizza he’d brought. He unwrapped the foil that it had been wrapped in and took one slice for himself, before handing the rest over to Teresa. “Here you go. Food, as promised. I’ll be able to bring you some more after school, but this’ll have to do for now.”

She took the pizza slices and rewrapped the foil around them. “Thanks. I’ll eat them a bit later.”

“Hey, what did we say about thanking us?”

She rolled her eyes again, a smile on her face. “You’re just gonna have to deal with it, because I’m never gonna stop.”

Thomas gave an exaggerated sigh and started eating his own slice. Inwardly, he was actually really happy to hear her say that. Even seeing her sitting next to him made him have to fight not to burst into tears of relief.

The first time around, she’d been dead before her birthday. The second time around, she’d probably been dead by this time too. The fact that she was here, talking, laughing, _alive,_ was nothing short of a miracle. The killer hadn’t been able to find her here. He didn’t care how much trouble he could get in for this. And it could be a lot. He’d technically kidnapped Teresa, and they were _definitely_ trespassing. But none of that mattered. He knew that he was doing the right thing.

 

Thomas woke to a sharp blast of cold air, and a voice saying, “Come on, Tommy, we need to go.”

He blinked his eyes open, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

He was still on the bus. It wasn’t too surprising that he’d fallen asleep. He’d gone to bed late last night, after all, and then woken up really early. It was probably a good thing that he’d gotten a little extra time in, otherwise he could’ve ended up falling asleep in class. That wouldn’t have been ideal.

There was a brief moment of panic when the thing he was leaning on started to move, but it only took a second for him to realise that it was just Teresa’s shoulder. They must've fallen asleep on each other. He gently pushed himself away, trying not to wake her, although it quickly became clear that she was already awake.

He looked up at Newt, who’d been responsible for their less-than-pleasant awakening. Thomas could’ve sworn that, just for a second, Newt looked upset about something, but the moment passed so quickly that Thomas decided that he must’ve imagined it.

“I guess it’s a good thing I decided to drop by.” The corners of Newt’s mouth quirked up into a slight smile. “You two looked like you were getting comfortable.”

“Don’t start,” warned Thomas as he stretched and stood, grabbing his bag and making sure it was securely done up.

Newt looked at his watch. “Seriously, mate, the Scorch kids’ll start arriving any minute. We’ve gotta be out of here already.”

“Okay, okay!” Thomas hefted his bag onto his shoulders and turned to Teresa. “You good?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m good. I’ll see you both later, okay?”

“Of course,” said Thomas. He was about to say something else when Newt grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of and away from the bus.

“Sorry, mate, but there’s no time!”

 

In fact, the boys only narrowly avoided being late for school. They reached their classroom mere moments before Mr Janson started calling out the register.

“...It looks like Teresa isn’t here today.” He looked over at Thomas and the rest of their group. “Has she been in contact with any of you to say why?”

Nobody said a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is already over 50k words long.... it's gonna end up being over double its current length at least.... holy shit.....
> 
>  
> 
> ~~this might be the slowest burn ever btw~~


	39. Chapter 39

At lunchtime, Thomas joined Newt at his desk.

Newt broke the silence first. “Is it just me, or was that maths exercise ten times harder than usual?”

Thomas chuckled. He didn’t remember the work that day being particularly difficult the last time around, but then again he’d been so worried about Teresa that he hadn’t really been focusing on anything. This time, there’d been no such distraction, so he’d actually been able to pay attention. He hadn’t thought that the questions had been too hard, but he could understand why Newt had. They’d definitely been harder than usual, that was for sure. “It’s not just you. I’m pretty sure that those questions were designed for older kids.”

“You didn’t seem to have much trouble with them, though?” Newt looked at him through the corner of his eye. “I know you’re great at maths and all, but even _you_ would’ve normally struggled today.”

Thomas shrugged.

“Is it related to the Thing?” asked Newt.

Thomas nodded, while saying, “Would you like me to go over the questions again with you? It could help.”

Newt laughed. “Honestly, Tommy? I don’t want to think about it again for as long as I live.”

“Honestly, Newt? Same.”

They both laughed. Newt didn’t ask Thomas to elaborate on the ‘Thing,’ which he was incredibly grateful for. He’d tell Newt everything one day, he knew that. But not yet. He needed to make sure that everyone was definitely safe first. Newt appeared to appreciate this, and was content to just trust him for now.

“D’ya reckon her mother’s done anything yet?” asked Newt.

“Like what?”

“Well, if either me or Sonya vanished one night, I know for a fact that our parents would’ve called the police well before school started the next day.”

“She definitely hadn’t called them this morning.” Thomas put his half-eaten sandwich down. “There weren’t any police around town, and there would’ve been if she’d been reported missing.”

Newt nodded. “Also, Mr Janson didn’t know where she was, so her mum didn’t tell the school either.” He paused. Then, voice shaking slightly, he said, “Does she even care?”

“I’m gonna go with no.”

Newt clenched his fist. “I knew that she was hurting her, but part of me still thought that in some shucked up way she might actually still care about her daughter, at least a little.” He laughed without humour. “I guess I was wrong.”

Thomas put his hand on Newt’s shoulder. Newt instantly relaxed under his touch. “This just proves we’re doing the right thing,” said Thomas. “Sooner or later someone’s bound to notice that she’s gone. And it sucks, but it’s actually useful that her mother hasn’t reported her. I’m pretty sure that not reporting it when a child goes missing is illegal.”

“You sure that’s true?”

“I heard it somewhere. And even if it’s not, it doesn’t make her look very good. She shouldn’t ever be able to hurt Teresa again.” Thomas withdrew his hand and picked his food back up.

“Have we actually made a difference?” asked Newt.

“Yes,” said Thomas. “Without a doubt.”

He looked over at Newt. He was staring at his own lunch, but wasn’t making any moves to pick it up.

“Hey,” said Thomas. Newt looked up at him. “We saved her life last night. That’s an indisputable fact.”

“But-”

“It is!” Thomas cut his argument off. “Teresa is alive, right now, where she wouldn’t have been if we’d done nothing. We’ve definitely made a difference.”

Newt blinked, taking a moment to process what Thomas had said. Then, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “You said that we could worry about the others once we were sure that she was safe, right?”

“Right.”

“Would you say that we’re sure now?”

Thomas thought about how to respond. They had a bit of time before Brenda Rosier would be an issue, probably even longer than there’d been before seeing as Teresa was still alive. Minho had only ever been targeted to cover up the other murders. Even so, it couldn’t hurt to take steps to protect their friend. He didn’t want to risk anything bad happening to him.

“Newt?” said Thomas. “I’m going to suggest something, and whatever conclusions you draw from it, I’m going to need you to promise not to freak out.”

“Sure,” he said. “What is it?”

“I think we should bring Minho along to see Teresa tonight.”

Newt froze. Then, he said, “Give me a minute,” and before Thomas could respond, he got up and walked out of the classroom.

Thomas finished eating his food and looked around at the room.

Siggy, Alby, and Minho were crowded around Minho’s desk at the back of the classroom. Minho had brought in an Uno deck and those three had spent their lunch break playing it. Last time around, Newt had joined in with them. That was another thing that had changed because of Thomas' actions.

Closer to the front of the room, Sonya, Harriet, and Miyoko were sitting around one of their desks, talking to each other. Beth was sat at her desk, eating alone in a stony silence.

Gally was sat at his desk, alternating between eating his lunch and reading a book. His silence was decidedly _not_ stony, seeing as he was letting another boy (Thomas was pretty sure it was Ben) read over his shoulder.

Thomas was satisfied that nobody had been paying any attention to the conversation between Newt and himself.

Newt returned and dropped back into his seat. His face, and some of his hair, looked damp.

At Thomas’ questioning look, he said, “I splashed myself with cold water.”

“Why?”

“So that I wouldn’t freak out.” Newt ate the last few bites of his lunch, then calmly asked, “How much danger is he in?”

“Not as much as Teresa. He’s the last person to get targeted, and I think it’s just to throw the police off, seeing as the other targets are girls.”

Understanding quickly dawned on Newt’s face. “The coat?”

“You’ve got it.”

Newt slumped in his chair. “So you think we should get him in on it?”

Thomas nodded. “Even if saving Teresa stops him from being in danger anyway, I’d feel a lot better if we didn’t let him be alone much. You know how late his parents work.”

“I hear you, Tommy, but this is _Minho_ we’re talking about. That shank can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“His own life? Yeah, I agree with you. So we won’t tell him that part. I _do_ think that he could keep a secret to save somebody else’s, though.”

“Okay,” said Newt. “So when do we tell him? _How_ do we tell him? How _much_ do we tell him?”

“We say nothing about there being a potential serial killer around, because that’ll just cause him to panic. We can say that we’re keeping Teresa safe from her mother.”

“Will she be okay with us telling him about it?”

Thomas winced. “I don’t know. That’s a good point.”

“We hold off on telling Minho until tomorrow, and ask her tonight?”

“Or we could ask her tonight, and if she says its okay, one of us goes and gets Minho straight away?”

Newt nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”


	40. Chapter 40

Teresa said it was okay, and Thomas was sent to get Minho.

He realised when he was halfway there that he had no idea how to convince him to come, or how to even _begin_ explaining the situation. With Newt, it had been easy. He’d figured out enough on his own, and trusted Thomas so much, that having him involved felt so natural that it was almost like breathing. But Minho wasn’t Newt. Minho hadn’t shown any sign of having realised that anything was out of the ordinary, so Thomas had no idea how he’d react to the sudden revelation of how awful Teresa’s mother was, or to what they’d decided to do about it.

Maybe showing would be better than telling?

Thomas knocked on Minho’s door.

Minho looked a little confused, but happy, to see him. “‘Sup shank! What can I do for you? Where’s Newt?”

“You okay to come back out? I want to show you something.”

“You couldn’t have decided to show me the thing before dropping me off home? I’ve already gotten comfortable!”

“Sorry, but we weren’t sure whether to show you yet.”

“Oh, I see how it is!” Minho brought a hand to his chest in obvious mock-hurt. “You and Newt, going off together, keeping secrets from the rest of us. I always knew you liked each other best!”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Slim it. We’re including you now, aren’t we? C’mon, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

During the walk back to the bus, Minho kept trying to theorise about what the thing he was being shown could possibly be. Highlights included hidden underground tunnels, a load of uncovered skeletons, and a secret government science lab. None of his guesses came anywhere close to the truth.

He seemed almost disappointed when the bus came into view.

“Is that it?”

“You’ll see,” said Thomas as he knocked three times on the door.

The quiet, muffled voices coming from inside that Thomas had to strain to be able to hear stopped, and footsteps made their way to the front of the bus. The door opened and Newt popped his head out.

“How much did you tell him?”

“Nothing, just that we wanted to show him something.”

“Helpful, Tommy. Really helpful,” Newt deadpanned. He shifted his gaze to Minho. “Min, before you come in, you need to promise that you won’t tell anyone about what you’re about to see. Not even Alby and Siggy.”

Minho sighed. “What could be so cool that you’re not including them, and only decided to include me just now?”

“It’s not cool, but it _is_ important,” said Thomas.

“Do you promise?” asked Newt.

Minho looked between the two of them. “Sure,” he said hesitantly, “I promise. What are you two looking so serious for?”

Instead of responding, Newt retreated back into the bus, beckoning for the other two to follow.

Minho stepped in, and Thomas followed, closing the door behind them. Newt reached the back of the bus and pulled the sheet aside, revealing the back row.

Minho stopped walking and stared.

“What is she doing here?” He turned to look back at Thomas. “I thought she was ill or something!”

“No, I’m okay,” said Teresa.

“Then why weren’t you in school?”

“If I went into school then nobody would notice that I was gone.”

“Gone? From where?”

Teresa caught Newt’s eye and nodded, letting him take over.

“Teresa’s mother is abusive, and nothing was being done about it, so Tommy and I hid her here last night. Sooner or later her disappearance will get noticed, which will hopefully mean that her mother’s actions will also be revealed. She’s not cutting school for fun. This is to keep her safe. And you _can’t_ tell _anyone,_ good that?”

Minho’s mouth hung open for a moment, before he said, “I have so many questions.”

“So ask,” said Thomas as he sat on the row just before the back. Newt sat opposite.

“Okay.” Minho sat in front of Thomas on the next row forward. “Abusive how?”

“She hits me,” said Teresa. “And burns me sometimes. I get locked in the shed a lot. It’s why I’m always late on Mondays, because I haven’t been able to recover from the weekend properly.”

“When did you tell these two?”

“She didn’t,” said Thomas. “We worked it out.”

“How?”

“We saw bruises,” Newt looked at the ground as he spoke. “But it was Tommy who actually decided to do something about it.”

“So this is all Thomas’ idea?”

“It’s my idea, but Newt’s the one who made it work.” Thomas gently kicked Newt’s shin. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Have you tried talking to an adult?” asked Minho.

“Yeah,” said Thomas, “I went to Mr Janson about it pretty much as soon as I noticed something was wrong. He said that he knew, and was trying to sort it, but whenever CPS tried to visit, Teresa and her mother were out.”

“Which is pretty impressive,” said Teresa, “seeing as we hardly ever go out.”

Thomas shrugged. “That’s just what Mr Janson told me.”

“You said you’ve been here since last night?” asked Minho. Teresa nodded. “How come nobody’s said anything, then? The school didn’t know you were missing, and I haven’t seen any police around so I don’t think they’ve been called.”

Newt voice betrayed his anger when he said, “They haven’t been. Her mother doesn’t seem to have noticed that Teresa’s gone, or if she has then she doesn’t care. _Anything_ could’ve happened to her, and she just-”

Thomas kicked him again, a little harder this time, and said, “If her mother doesn’t call the police, eventually the school will. Or I’ll get my mum to do it, whatever, it’ll work out.”

“So how’s it working, you staying here?”

“Tom and Newt bring me food in the morning and evening,” said Teresa. “I’ve got a heater here, so I’m not too cold. I go outside if I need to pee.”

“Don’t you get bored?”

Teresa shrugged. “I’d rather be bored than dead.”

Minho’s eyebrows shot up. “Was it that bad?”

“Yes,” said Thomas. “It was.”

Minho took a deep breath, in and out, and said, “Why are you telling me about this?”

Newt and Thomas shared a glance, and Newt said, “We wanted to have somebody else involved, in case there’s a day where either Tommy or I can’t get down here. We don’t want to leave her alone for too long. And you’re one of our best friends. We trust you.”

“Why not the other two? Surely they’d be better able to deal with something like this?”

Newt looked back at Thomas, who said, “Maybe. Maybe not. _You’re_ the one we’ve decided to tell.”

Minho put his head into his hands. Teresa was looking down at her feet, like she didn’t think that she should be saying anything. Newt looked like he was debating whether or not to go over to Minho and reassure him somehow. Thomas caught Newt’s eye and shook his head. Minho needed to process, and they needed to let him do so at his own pace.

Eventually, Minho looked back up at them. “I think you shanks are nuts to be doing this. You could get into so much trouble.” He took a deep breath. “But,” he said, “I’m really shucking honoured that you’ve decided to trust me. I promise I won’t breathe a word. How else can I help?”

Teresa’s smile was infectious, as was Newt’s obvious relief.

“Mate, you have no idea how much this means to us,” said Newt.

Minho rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just answer the question.”

“It’s like we said,” said Thomas. “Bring her food, keep her company, don’t tell anyone what we’re doing.”

Minho nodded. “I can do all of those things.”

Thomas smiled. “Then you’re good. Welcome aboard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you might've noticed that this is now part of a series, that's because i've started to write some oneshots in this au. the first one, [interrogation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604171), is a conversation between newt and teresa that was briefly referenced a few chapters ago. you don't need to read it, or any other oneshots that may be coming, to understand this fic, but they're there if you want to : D
> 
> also, 150 kudos ??? holy shit thank you all so much !!!!!


	41. Chapter 41

Minho discovered that the Uno deck that he’d been playing with at lunchtime was still in his coat pocket, so the four of them decided to play.

“So I’m guessing this is what was so important for you two to discuss at lunchtime that you couldn’t join in with the rest of us?” said Minho.

“Yeah, sorry,” said Thomas. “We won’t ditch you again.”

Minho pointed at him. “No, you won’t! I forbid it!”

Newt placed a plus-two card down, which Teresa immediately added to with one of her own. Thomas sighed as he reached over to the deck to pick up some cards.

“You see, shanks, at lunch today Alby ended up having to pick up 12 cards at once. If you hadn’t been busy conspiring then you wouldn’t have missed such a glorious moment.”

“If we’d have been there, then the cards would’ve been dealt differently, and there’s no guarantee that it would’ve even happened.” Newt looked over at him. “So, really, you should be grateful we weren’t there, because then you got to enjoy that moment.”

Minho ignored his logic and placed a card down.

“Guys...” said Teresa.

“Yeah?” said Thomas.

“How long do you think it’ll be before somebody actually notices that I’m gone. Because I’m grateful for this, I really am, but surely I can’t just stay here forever.”

“Before I get home today, I’ll stop round your house and ask after you,” said Thomas. “That might convince her to report it.”

“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll start kicking up a fuss,” said Newt. “We’ll keep bugging the teachers, and get our own parents to call in. It’s going to be alright.” He placed down a card. “Uno, by the way.”

“I’ll definitely be able to help with that.” Minho grinned. “I’m pretty good at not shutting up about stuff.”

“We’d noticed,” Thomas and Teresa said in unison.

It took him a second, but then Minho got it. “It’s not my fault that you two are clearly in love with each other.”

Teresa placed down a draw-four card. “Green.”

Newt tutted and picked up the required cards.

“Teresa and I are not in love,” said Thomas.

Minho winked. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I will, thanks.” Thomas shared a glance with Teresa, and they both shook their heads in exasperation.

Teresa placed down a card. “Uno.”

“What happens after, though?” asked Minho. At his friends’ questioning looks, he elaborated, “I mean when Teresa _does_ get reported missing? What then? Do we wait for her to get found? Do we admit what we’ve been doing? Won’t we get in trouble?”

“Don’t worry about any of that,” said Thomas. “You and Newt aren’t going to get in any trouble because I’m going to take full responsibility. You two just need to pretend that you didn’t know anything about it, and you’ll be fine. As far as any adults are concerned, this was all my doing.”

“Tom, you’re an idiot.”

“Huh?”

“Nobody’s going to get in any trouble, because you haven’t done anything wrong. Anyone looking at what you’ve done will be able to tell that you’re just trying to help. You’re not going to get in trouble for that.” She placed down her last card. “Also, I win.”

Minho threw his cards down. “How do you keep doing that? I swear I’ve never seen you lose a game of anything ever!”

Newt grinned. “I guess she has a knack for them.”

“It’s witchcraft, is what it is!” Minho reached over to her and grabbed her hands. “Please teach me everything you know!”

Teresa laughed. “I promise I’m not a witch.”

“But you must be!”

“Nope. I’m just good at games.”

“That’s so not fair!” Minho whined.

Thomas pushed on Minho’s shoulder so that he let go of Teresa and sat back in his seat. “You’re just gonna have to practise more.”

“Exactly,” said Minho. “I demand a rematch!”

The group played a few more games. Teresa didn’t actually win all of them, but Minho won exactly none. Which was likely because the other three had stopped playing to win, instead ganging up on Minho specifically. He complained that they were being mean to him, and the others pointed out that it could serve as payback for all the times he’d insisted people had crushes on each other when they didn’t. Minho had (reluctantly) accepted this, but his losses could definitely have been more graceful.

All in all, they had a fun evening!

Newt and Thomas walked Minho home, before deciding to go to Teresa’s together. Thomas was grateful that Newt wanted to go with him. He wasn’t looking forward to coming face to face with Teresa’s mother again, so having his friend there with him was a comfort.

When they were nearly there, Newt said, “You know what Teresa said, about how you weren’t gonna get in trouble for this?”

“What about it?”

“I bet’cha didn’t think of it like that at all, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Newt chuckled. “You were completely prepared to take the fall for everything alone?”

“Yeah, I was.”

He turned to look at him, smiled, and said, “You know how you said you want to be a superhero? Well, Tommy, in my book, you already _are_ one.”

Thomas was spared from having to think up a response by the fact that they had reached Teresa’s house. He cleared his throat and rang the doorbell.

The curtain in the window next to the door twitched. A minute later, the door opened to reveal Teresa’s mother. She regarded the boys with suspicion. Thomas couldn’t see anything to indicate that she’d been worried or distressed in any way.

“Hi Ms Paige,” he said in a carefully clear voice. He couldn’t let his true feelings towards this woman show. “We were just wondering if Teresa was okay? She wasn’t in school today.”

“I know she wasn’t in school.”

“...I wasn’t suggesting that you didn’t?”

“Can we see her?” Newt chimed in. “Being ill must really suck, and maybe seeing some familiar faces will help cheer her up?”

“No,” said Teresa’s mother. “You can’t see her. Go away.” She shut the door in their faces.

The boys stared at the door for a moment, before turning and walking away.

“That went well,” said Newt.

Thomas shrugged.

“What did that even achieve?”

“Maybe nothing, maybe exactly what we wanted it to, maybe something in between.” Thomas sighed. “I’m not a mind reader. I don’t know what she’s about to do.”

“But you _do_ know the future?”

“Not all of it. Not now. We’ve already changed so much, I can’t predict what’s gonna happen next.” Thomas didn’t think he could leave what Newt had said unaddressed. He took a deep breath. “Look, about what you said -”

“I meant it, Tommy. You really are a superhero.”

Thomas opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to figure out what to say. He and Newt had agreed to stop thanking each other for everything, so he couldn’t do that. It didn’t seem like a good enough response anyway. Eventually, he decided on, “That’s really kind of you.” It didn’t come anywhere close to what he meant, although he wasn’t entirely certain about what that actually was, but he put as much genuine feeling into that statement as he possibly could.

Newt laughed softly. “It’s not being kind if it’s the truth. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Try not to fall asleep in the bus again.”

Newt had walked away before Thomas had had a chance to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my friends have been playing a _lot_ of uno lately lmao


	42. Chapter 42

Friday morning, and Thomas was up at half four again. He quickly got dressed and gathered his school things together. His plan for the morning was to make some sandwiches to take to Teresa, and grab a cereal bar or something similar to eat on the way there.

So he was shocked to find his mother standing in the kitchen preparing some eggs.

“...Mum? What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m making breakfast.” She turned and smiled at him. “You’re going to school early again, aren’t you? You should eat first.”

Thomas put his bag down by the door and sat at the table. She handed him a plate and sat down in the chair opposite.

“Woah there, kiddo, you might wanna slow down!”

Thomas paused mid-mouthful, then slowly swallowed. “Sorry,” he said, and he continued to eat at a much calmer pace. She was right. He’d been rushing to try and get out of the house as soon as possible, but he didn’t want to choke or make himself sick. That would be rather counter-productive. And unpleasant.

“Can I ask you something?” said Thomas’ mother.

“Sure.”

“Who are you meeting so early?”

Thomas froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. How had she known? He definitely hadn’t said anything that could’ve given it away. Then again, he had been leaving early and coming in late for the last couple of days. It was out of character for him, and the fact that she’d noticed really shouldn’t have been surprising. Of course she was concerned. Any parent - any _good_ parent - would be. For all she knew, her child could be in danger.

He hoped that confidence and a partial admission would dissuade her. “Sorry. I can’t say.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not in trouble, are you? Is somebody making you do-”

“Of course not!” Thomas didn’t let her finish. “I promise, if that were the case, I’d tell you. Immediately.”

She studied his face for a long moment, then said, “Okay.”

Thomas breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He really hadn’t meant to scare her. Oh well, with any luck this wouldn’t be going on for too much longer.

Thomas got up out of his seat the moment he finished his final mouthful. He pulled on his shoes and coat, grabbed his bag, and flung open the door. “Bye mum!” he yelled as he started to run out of the door.

He felt himself get yanked back. His mother had grabbed the back of his collar.

“Not just yet, young man.”

She handed him a small, plastic tupperware box. It felt warm. Thomas went to lift the lid.

“Best you keep it shut, so the heat doesn’t escape.” She handed him a plastic fork.

“What is it?”

“Just some leftovers from last night. You know,” she winked at him, “in case you get hungry before lunch.”

Thomas smiled. “Thanks, mum.”

And he was out of the door.

  


Thomas knocked three times on the bus door before walking in, pulling the door closed behind him. He headed straight for the back of the bus. When he pulled back the sheet he saw Teresa slowly sitting up, still cocooned in the sleeping bag.

He grinned. “You look like a caterpillar.”

“Shut up, Tom.”

Thomas just laughed and sat down next to her. He let her struggle on her own for a few seconds, then reached out and pulled the zip on the side of the sleeping bag down far enough that she could get her arms out.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Teresa hesitated, looked like she was about to say something, then changed her mind and nodded.

Thomas handed her the tupperware box and fork. “Here, I brought this for you.”

“What is it?” she asked as she prised the lid off.

Thomas shrugged. “Food.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so descriptive.” She put the lid down on the seat beside her and smiled at the food. “It looks really good.” She frowned. “Why's it warm?”

“Mum warmed it up before I left this morning.”

Teresa’s eyes widened. “Did you ask her too? Was she suspicious? Does she know that I’m-”

“Teresa, it’s okay.” Thomas held out a hand to placate her. “I haven’t told her anything. I think she suspects, but she won’t say or do anything more than just giving me extra food unless I actually get her involved. You’re fine.”

“Are you sure.”

“Absolutely, I promise.” He smiled gently. “Why don’t you eat that before it gets cold?”

Teresa still didn’t look wholly convinced, but clearly decided that her focus was better spent on the food. She didn’t eat quite as fast as Thomas had done his breakfast, but the food was still gone pretty quickly.

She looked over at him. “Than-” She cut herself off, seeing the look that Thomas was giving her. “I mean,” she corrected herself, “that was really good!”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Thomas grinned. “My mum’s an amazing cook.”

“She sure is.”

“Tell her for me?”

“I tell her every day.”

She smiled. “Good.”

Thomas looked around them, at the back section of the bus that they’d partitioned off. The heater and sleeping bag made it warm and cosy, but there wasn’t much room to move around.

“Are you sure you’re alright, staying here? You must be so bored.”

“It’s fine, really. It was kinda boring at first, but Newt gave me a few books yesterday, so I’ve got those now. And I can walk up and down the aisle when I need to stretch my legs.”

“If you’re sure, do you think you can manage a couple more days?”

“If you guys start bringing me food for lunch as well as breakfast and dinner, then I _know_ I can manage it.”

“Great! And we will, definitely. It’s Saturday tomorrow anyway, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” Thomas absently glanced at his watch, did a double take, and jumped to his feet. “I have to go, like _now!_ ”

He barely stayed long enough for Teresa to say bye before he was running out of the bus and away from Scorch Primary.

The kids who went to that school were starting to arrive, ready to start their day. He needed to get away before somebody noticed that he wasn’t supposed to be there. Because then they might start asking questions, which could lead them to Teresa, and everything could go wrong.

He was so focused on getting far away from there as quickly as possible, that he wasn’t actually looking ahead of him.

He was suddenly forced to, however, when he collided head on with someone.

The girl went crashing to the ground.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Thomas reached his hand down to help her up.

She didn’t take it, pushing herself to her feet instead. “Watch where you’re going!”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m in a rush.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know you. You don’t go here, do you?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, I go to Glade.”

The girl thought for a second, then smirked. “You’re _so_ gonna be late.”

Thomas grabbed his bag from where it had fallen on the ground and, yelling back his apologies for knocking her over, started to run across town to school.


	43. Chapter 43

When the school came into view, Thomas saw Newt sitting on the front steps. Once Thomas had gotten a little closer, Newt must’ve heard him approach, because he looked up and stood.

Thomas reached the bottom of the steps and slowed to a stop, wanting to catch his breath. He’d ran the whole way there.

But Newt didn’t give him the chance. He grabbed his wrist and started dragging him up the steps into the school building. “C’mon, Tommy, there’s no time.”

Thomas got his feet back under him so Newt wasn’t having to drag him anymore. He didn’t pull his wrist back, though, letting Newt lead him as they made their way through the school and up the stairs. When they reached their classroom’s door, Newt released his grip on Thomas’ wrist and pulled it open. They both walked in silently, ignoring everyone else turning around to stare at them, and quickly made their way to their seats.

“It’s nice of you two to join us,” said Mr Janson.

“Sorry, sir,” said Thomas. “It was my fault. It won’t happen again.”

Mr Janson frowned and looked back down at the register in his hand. “That just leaves Teresa.”

After a moment of silence, Beth turned to Thomas and said, “You’re her friend, aren’t you?” When Thomas nodded, she said, “Do you know what’s going on with her? Where is she?”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know. She wasn’t there when we went by earlier.”

A ripple of murmurs spread across the classroom.

“That’s really weird.”

“Has  _ nobody _ heard anything?”

“What’s going on?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alby lean forwards to talk directly to Newt. “If she was ill then we’d definitely have heard something, right?”

“Yeah,” said Newt, “but her mum hasn’t called in to say so.”

Mr Janson clapped sharply once, and the room fell silent. Everyone turned back towards the front of the room. He smiled reassuringly at them. “Now, now,” he said, “I’m sure it’s nothing. She’ll show up sooner or later just like she always does. For now, let’s begin.”

  
  


At the end of the day, Thomas cornered Newt and Minho before the three of them could leave.

“You two go on ahead. I’m gonna go talk to Mr Janson, then grab some food for her. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

“When will you be there?” asked Newt.

Minho rolled his eyes and gently shoved Newt’s shoulder. “He’ll get there when he gets there, quit your worrying.”

Newt narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t worrying.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“I wasn’t!”

Minho turned to face Thomas. “You know how he was waiting on the steps for you this morning? Well, that was  _ after  _ he spent ages failing at hiding his panic that you might not get here on time. Eventually Sonya snapped and told him to just go outside if he was gonna keep freaking out.”

“Traitor,” said Newt.

“I never said I wouldn’t tell him, and you never asked me not to, so don’t act like I wasn’t supposed to”

Thomas just smiled apologetically at Newt. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t just  _ saying _ that it wouldn’t happen again. I’m really gonna try to get here on time in future.”

“Yeah, well, you’d better.” Newt crossed his arms. “I know  _ she  _ definitely won’t be happy if you end up getting into trouble because of her.”

“I know, I know. And I’ll get to the bus as soon as I can today, I promise.”

Newt sighed, and nodded his agreement.

“Great,” said Minho, “now c’mon shank, I wanna get there as soon as possible.” He grabbed Newt’s wrist and began pulling him away.

“I can walk myself, you know.”

“If I wasn’t doing this you’d never move and we both know it.”

Minho pulled Newt through the classroom door, and Thomas couldn’t hear their conversation anymore.

Thomas waited a minute or so to give them time to get out of the building, then made his way to the staff room.

When he knocked, Mr Janson was the one to open the door. “Ah, Thomas, what can I do for you?”

“It’s about Teresa.”

Mr Janson nodded, and invited Thomas in. He sat down at his desk. “I was meaning to talk to you about her, actually. Are you able to get in contact with her?”

Thomas shook his head. “Newt and I tried to visit yesterday, to see if she’s okay, but her mum wouldn’t let us in. I tried again this morning but I’m not sure if anyone was even home.”

Mr Janson frowned. “Are you worried about her?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look all that worried.”

“I- I’m just trying to stay calm about it.” Thomas gave a short, nervous laugh. “Panicking won’t help so there isn’t much point.”

“Yes, quite.” Mr Janson closed a file that he’d had open on his desk. “Well, you should know that I’ve tried calling Teresa’s home, but I haven’t gotten a response. I’ve also tried calling her mother’s place of work, but I’ve been informed that she hasn’t been in for the last couple of days.”

“What? Is that all? You should call those CPS people or the police or something!”

Mr Janson frowned. “The police? Are you sure about that, Thomas?” He fixed him with a serious look. “I’d hate to open a can of worms, for somebody else.” He paused, then relaxed. “I did, however, call CPS last night. We’re going to visit Teresa’s house ourselves this evening. Hopefully we’ll be able to get to the bottom of this.”

Thomas couldn’t stop the grin from spreading onto his face. “You did? That’s great! Thank you so much! You’re the best!”

Mr Janson chuckled. “It’s nothing, Thomas. You should run along, now.”

Thomas said thanks again, and left.

His next stop was the supermarket. He needed to buy some food for Teresa. He grabbed a premade sandwich and a couple of packets of cookies. It wasn’t exactly the healthiest dinner ever, but it would do.

He knew that he was probably attracting attention to himself, but he didn’t care. The smile on his face just would not go away. Mr Janson was on the case! Everything would definitely end up sorted out really soon if he was involved. Thomas knew that there was a chance that he was being overly optimistic, but he wouldn’t be all that surprised if they’d managed to get Teresa somewhere safe - permanently safe - before the time Monday rolled around.

He hoped they’d be able to do that.


	44. Chapter 44

The best route from the supermarket to the bus took Thomas right by Teresa’s house. If he wasn’t carrying a shopping bag of food, and if he didn’t know that Child Protective Services were going to be visiting there that evening, he would’ve knocked and asked after Teresa again. As it was, he planned to just walk past without giving it a second glance.

He was entirely unsuccessful.

When he got within earshot of the house, he noticed that there were three people approaching the door. It was Mr Janson, along with a man and a woman that Thomas didn’t recognise, but who were probably the people from CPS that Mr Janson had said would be visiting.

Thomas hid himself behind a nearby car and peered out so that he could still see and hear what was going on.

The man was the first to reach the door, and he rang the doorbell.

No response.

“Hm, do you think they might not be in?”

“They must be,” said the woman. “Look, the lights are all on.”

The man rang the doorbell again.

Still no response.

“Maybe if we try....” Mr Janson said, then he started walking round the back of the house. The other two followed him.

Thomas couldn’t see them anymore, but he didn’t move to get a better view. If he was seen then at the very least he’d have to make polite small talk with them, and he really didn’t want to deal with that. And _then_ there was the possibility of questions being asked or them deciding that he needed to be walked home. That wouldn’t be good at all.

“You can’t go in there!” came the man’s voice.

Thomas heard Mr Janson respond with something, but he couldn’t make out any of the words.

A few minutes of waiting later, and all three adults came back around to the front of the house.

“So she just up and left?” said the woman.

“It looks like it,” said the man.

The woman sighed. “I was really hoping that we could take custody of the girl tonight.”

“We could always get the police involved?” suggested the man. “We could put out an APB on the mother.”

“I doubt that that’s necessary,” said Mr Janson. When the other two looked at him like he’d grown an extra head, he elaborated. “She probably hasn’t gone far, so there’s little point starting a full-scale search for her. As for Teresa? She’s probably safe. In fact I’m sure of it. So, instead of unnecessarily escalating the situation, a better idea would be to just try again tomorrow.”

The man and the woman nodded their agreement, and they all got into a car and drove away.

Thomas stepped out from behind the car.

Had Mr Janson just been saying that to try and stop all of the alarms being raised at once, to keep things calm? Or was there another reason? Did he suspect the truth?

Thomas shrugged it off. Even if Mr Janson _did_ suspect, it didn’t matter, because he didn’t _know_ where she was. And he clearly didn’t have any intention of telling anyone about it, so if he did then he was trusting Thomas to take care of it.

He wasn’t entirely sure how that made him feel.

It was nice to be trusted, but it was also a little confusing. What he’d been doing was no small feat, and to get an implied ‘carry on’ from his teacher made him feel both proud and ever so slightly overwhelmed. Also, he was pretty sure that this was something that, as a teacher, Mr Janson really _should_ be intervening on.

But evidently he wasn’t going to.

Thomas resumed his journey across town to the bus. If Mr Janson was just going to leave the situation alone, then there wasn’t any point dwelling on it. It was one less thing to worry about.

 

Thomas knocked three times on the bus door before letting himself in. As he pulled the door shut behind him, he saw that Newt was standing halfway down the aisle for some reason. Behind him, Teresa was laughing softly.

Before Thomas had a chance to ask, she called out, “He jumped up the moment you knocked. I think he wanted to open the door for you.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Newt,” said Thomas. “I can manage.”

Newt sighed and beckoned Thomas forward. Once he was close enough, Newt reached out and took the shopping bag off of him, and started to make his own way to the back of the bus.

“I _said_ I can manage,” Thomas grumbled as he followed.

“I know, Tommy,” said Newt as he handed the bag over to Teresa. He sat where he had the day before, in the row in front of her.

Thomas sat opposite him, also in the same seat as the day before. “What’s so funny?” he asked Teresa, who still hadn’t stopped giggling.

“Oh, nothing really,” she said in an obviously fake innocent voice. “It’s just that Newt-”

“Slim it.” Newt reached his hand into the shopping bag she was holding and pulled out the sandwich. “You’ve been complaining that you’re hungry, so why don’t you just eat?”

Teresa rolled her eyes and opened the packaging.

“For the record,” said Minho, “I don’t know what’s gotten into these two either.”

“It’s nice to know I’m not alone,” said Thomas.

Teresa opened her mouth as if to say something.

“Nope!” Newt said, pointing at her. “You’re eating. You don’t get to talk.”

She rolled her eyes and took a bite out of her sandwich instead.

“So,” said Thomas, “what were you guys talking about while I wasn’t here?”

Minho shrugged. “Not much. Teresa’s spent the day reading a book that Newt’s letting her borrow. Apparently it’s alright.”

Teresa nodded vigourously, swallowed her mouthful, and said, “It’s more than alright! It’s really good! I’m about three quarters of the way through it and I’m really enjoying it!”

Newt smiled. “I’m glad you’re liking it. I liked that one too.”

“Also,” said Minho, “Newt showed us one of his latest drawings.”

“Oh, yeah!” said Newt as he began to rifle around in his school bag. “I wanted to show you.” He flipped the sketchbook open and handed it to Thomas.

Thomas recognised the page. Last time he’d seen it, there had just been a single circle sketched in the top corner. Last time around, Minho had suggested that Newt turn it into Big Ben and Westminster Palace. Thomas had interrupted that conversation this time around though, so Minho had never made the suggestion. Thomas hadn’t even thought about what Newt might’ve drawn instead.

Now the rest of the page was filled with circles, all different sizes to the original. And every single one of the circles showed a clock.

Some of the clocks were simply designed, others less so. The extra space between them had been used to add extra detail, so different types of clocks could be seen. Some were surrounded by ornate decoration, some were simply wall clocks or pocket watches, while some had no surroundings at all to help determine exactly what type of clock it was. Every single one showed a different time.

“It’s not quite finished yet,” said Newt. His voice was wavering slightly, like he was trying to disguise his nerves. What exactly he was nervous about, Thomas couldn’t say. There wasn’t any clear reason _why_ Thomas looking at Newt’s drawing had caused him to worry.

Thomas looked up. “This is really cool,” he said.

Newt gave a small sigh of relief. “You think so?”

“I know so!” Thomas looked back down at it.

“I’m probably going to finish it over the weekend.” All traces of nervousness had disappeared from his voice, having been replaced with confidence.

“I can’t wait,” he said as he passed the sketchbook back. “It’ll be brilliant.”

Newt’s smile was enough to light up the whole world.


	45. Chapter 45

“Teresa,” said Thomas, “I passed your house on the way here. Mr Janson and some people from CPS were there. They were looking for your mother.”

“Did they find her?”

He shook his head. “She’d seen them arrive or something and hid. Apparently she hasn’t been going into work the last few days, either.”

“That’s pretty suspicious,” said Newt.

“Yeah,” said Thomas. “If we’re lucky this could all be sorted really soon!” The smile that had found its way onto his face dropped away. “They said that they’d take you away.”

“That’s fine,” Teresa said firmly. “It’ll suck not getting to see you guys, but it’s not like it’ll be forever. We’re all supposed to be going to the same secondary school, right?” The boys nodded. “Right. And even if I end up going somewhere else instead, that doesn’t matter. Wherever I end up, whoever I’m with, if they think that I’m not gonna talk to you then they’ve got another thing coming.”

Minho grinned. “Good that.”

Newt and Thomas nodded decisively.

“In fact...” Minho looked around. “Has anyone got a spare bit of paper and something to write with?”

Newt handed him a small spiral-bound notebook and a pencil. Minho wrote something down, and passed the items back to Newt. Newt read what had been written, before writing something of his own, and passed them on to Thomas. Minho and Newt had each written down a string of numbers, along with their names next to them to differentiate between the two. Thomas quickly added his own, and tore the paper they’d been writing on out of the notebook. He passed the paper to Teresa, and gave the notebook and pencil back to Newt.

“Those are our home phone numbers,” said Minho. “You are _not_ allowed to lose contact with us, good that?”

Teresa smiled. “Sure, okay, good that.”

Minho beamed. “You said the thing!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I can actually understand _that_ one. It’s not a word that you’ve made up, it’s English.”

“Still!” Minho was practically bouncing in his seat. “You used our slang! You’re officially part of the group!”

“Oh?” she said, her voice carefully innocent. “Are you saying that I wasn’t before?”

“Slim it Minho,” said Newt. “Of course you were.”

She glared at Newt, but there was no heat behind it. “I was gonna watch him squirm!”

Newt gave a short laugh. “I know, but I took pity on him.”

“I could’ve handled it,” Minho pouted.

Newt raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? Remember the thing with the sofa last week? Entertaining as it was, we really didn’t need to hear you begging for her forgiveness again.”

Minho spluttered for a bit, then crossed his arms and said, “I wasn’t begging.”

“Yes you were,” said Thomas.

“You had no shame,” said Newt.

“It was very funny,” said Teresa.

“You’re all mean,” said Minho.

“Yeah,” said Newt, “but you love us.”

Minho sighed. “Sure, I _guess._ ”

Teresa pulled her bag onto her lap. “Hey, Tom?” she said as she started rummaging around inside of it.

“Yeah?” said Thomas.

“I’m sorry it’s so late, but I finally finished your birthday present.” She pulled something out of the bag and handed it to him.

It was a pair of green, hand knitted mittens.

Thomas took them and pulled them on. They fit him perfectly. He held his hands out on front of his face and stared at them.

“I noticed that you didn’t have any gloves, and I don’t really have any opportunities to buy people presents, so I thought that maybe I could make you some instead? And I’m really-”

“Teresa,” Thomas interrupted her. He brought his hands down so he could look at her properly and grinned. “I love them. I’ll definitely make sure to wear them all the time.”

Newt gave a snort of laughter. “Just make sure you don’t lose these ones.”

“I promise I won’t!” Thomas insisted. “And even if I _do_ find that other pair, I’ll still keep wearing these instead. They’re really great! Thank you so much!”

Teresa smiled, and breathed a sigh of what was probably relief. “I’m glad you like them.”

“I didn’t know you could knit,” said Minho.

Teresa shrugged. “I don’t even remember learning. But the fabric shop sells wool for pretty cheap, and it was something to do, you know? But I’ve never had an actual project before.” She smiled sheepishly. “I had to look up how to make mittens.”

Minho grabbed Thomas’ hand and held it up so he could inspect the mittens more closely. “They look great! Any chance you’re thinking of making more?”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, much?”

Minho dropped Thomas’ hand like it had burned him. “No. Why would I be jealous?” He crossed his arms. “They look good, is all. If gloves are gonna be a _thing_ between these two, then don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t wanna get between them.”

Teresa sighed and shook her head in exasperation. She caught Thomas’ eye and rolled her eyes at Minho, which Thomas joined in with. Newt watched their interaction and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” asked Minho.

“If you want some gloves, then just tell me the colour you want and I’ll get on it,” said Teresa, ignoring his question.

“You should pay her for the wool,” added Newt. “After all, Thomas’ are for his birthday.”

“Yeah,” said Thomas. He held his hands up in front of Minho’s face. “These are a birthday present.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” said Teresa. “I don’t mind.”

“No, these shanks are right.” Minho shrugged. “How much would I owe you?”

“Well, I don’t actually have enough wool with me right now to make another pair. So instead of paying me, you could just get the wool yourself? I’d happily make them for you then.”

Minho nodded. “Good that, then.” He grinned. “I can’t wait.”

Teresa nodded in agreement, then turned towards Thomas. “Hey, Tom? There was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

“I was wondering if you could stay here tonight?”

“Um-”

“No. Way.” Minho’s eyes lit up. “You totally didn’t just ask that!” He excitedly turned to Newt. “You heard the same thing, right? I didn’t make that up?”

Newt’s brow was furrowed in confusion. “I heard her,” he said.

Teresa threw the empty sandwich packaging at Minho’s head. “I didn’t mean it like _that,_ you dork.” She turned back to Thomas. “It’s just...” She pulled her bag closer again and started to fiddle with the keyring. “Someone came in here last night.”

“...What?” asked Thomas.

“I thought it was you at first, but they hadn’t done the knocking thing, so I realised that it wasn’t.” She shrugged and looked down at her feet. “I don’t think they knew I was here.”

“It might’ve just been a security guard?” Newt’s voice sounded like he desperately wanted to believe what he was saying, but he knew it wasn’t true.

Teresa shook her head. “I doubt it. Whoever it was, they were angry.” She pointed towards the front of the bus. “They kicked one of the boxes up there really hard.”

The boys all turned to look. Sure enough, one of the boxes had a clear dent in it that definitely hadn’t been there the day before.

“How did we miss that?” asked Thomas.

“We weren’t paying enough attention,” said Newt.

“I think I see something else there, too,” said Minho.

All four of them got up and cautiously approached the front of the bus. On the seat next to the dented box was a large, black rucksack.

“Just to check, this wasn’t here yesterday either, right?” asked Minho.

“No,” said Newt, “it wasn’t.”

Minho turned his head towards Teresa. “You think that shank from last night left this here?”

“If it wasn’t there before, I guess they must’ve done,” she said.

“This morning you said that you’d slept fine!” said Thomas. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Teresa looked at him apologetically. “I wanted to, but I didn’t want you to worry. And it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. You had to go to school.”

Thomas stared at the bag in silence for a moment. Then, with false hope in his voice, he said, “It was probably just some kid trying to find somewhere to dump his porn stash.”

Minho gave a short burst of laughter.

Newt smiled at Thomas, silently thanking him for the attempt to explain it away. He sighed. “We won’t know unless we look inside.”

He reached towards the bag. Thomas grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Are you sure? There could be anything in there.”

Newt gently pulled his arm out of Thomas’ grip. “It’s just a bag, Tommy. I’ll be okay.” He picked the bag up, and laughed nervously. “I hope it isn’t anything worse than porn.”

He tipped the bag and let the contents spill onto the seat.

Inside the bag had been a length of thick rope, some rubber boots, duct tape, a torch, some rubber gloves, and a balaclava.

The last of the items came to a stop.

“What’s all this junk for?” asked Minho.

Thomas and Newt shared a horrified look.

“It’s not safe here,” said Thomas. “We’ve gotta go. Now.”


	46. Chapter 46

Thomas was an idiot.

He knew that the murders hadn’t been random. They hadn’t been crimes of opportunity. Teresa had been specifically targeted. That’s why she’d still died last time, and the whole thing with hiding her in a practically abandoned bus had been _necessary._

Minho had only been a target because the police had realised that the killer was targeting girls. By killing a boy that had the potential to be _mistaken_ for a girl by a stranger, the police had been directed towards Jorge, who was innocent. Besides, he was killed last. By spending a little more time with him, and by stopping the other murders, it was possible that the killer wouldn’t go after him at all.

But that still left Brenda Rosier.

The bus was on the grounds of Scorch Primary School.

The school that Brenda Rosier went to.

Clearly, the killer hadn’t given up. He was angry that one of his targets had vanished before he could get to them, but that wasn’t stopping him. He’d placed his stuff here, ready. Brenda was still in danger.

They hadn’t escaped the loop of killings.

Last time, Brenda had disappeared about a week after Teresa did, which was earlier than she had the first time around. This meant that Thomas couldn’t predict an exact date that she’d be in the most danger. But it did mean that there was still some time before he really needed to do something about her.

Right now, at this exact moment, Teresa was still the priority.

There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind that this crap belonged to the killer. The soles of the rubber boots matched the footprints that he’d seen outside of Teresa’s shed. And Thomas couldn’t think of an innocent use for all these items together. Not given the circumstances, anyway.

This bus was clearly a part of the killer’s routine.

And Teresa had been _right there._

“What do you mean, ‘it’s not safe here’?” asked Minho.

“Minho, you’re seeing this, aren’t you?” Newt gestured towards the seat.

“It might be nothing...”

“Do you really think that?” Thomas looked Minho directly in the eyes. It was more of a challenge than a question.

Minho shook his head. “You’re right.” He looked back at what had been in the bag. “This stuff’s freaking me out.”

Newt turned to Teresa. “Our plan _was_ to have somebody find you, but if someone else is using this place then we’d better move you.”

Teresa leaned over to get a better look. “What’cha think all that stuff’s for?”

Minho shuddered. “It’s giving me ‘serial killer’ vibes.”

Thomas gave a short, nervous laugh. “Good to know it’s not just me.” He looked over at Newt and gave a small sigh, before gently grabbing Newt’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. “Stop biting your nails.”

“I can’t help it!”

“If you’re helping us pack up, then you won’t be able to.” Thomas pulled himself up straight and addressed the three of them. “We need to make it like we were never here. C’mon, let’s get to it.”

“You do have a plan B, right Tommy?”

He smiled reassuringly. “Of course I do. Don’t worry.”

Thomas shoved the killer’s things back into the bag and positioned it so that it would look like it hadn’t been touched. Teresa stuffed the sleeping bag back into its bag, getting Minho’s help to squash it down small enough. Newt switched off the heater and pushed it further under a seat so it was completely out of sight.

“We should leave the windows covered and the sheet up,” said Thomas. “Otherwise the guy this stuff belongs to _will_ notice that something’s changed.”

“It’s a shame,” said Minho. “This was a cool hideout.”

“Not if some weirdo’s using it too,” said Newt.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Minho said as he pulled his coat on.

It didn’t take very long to pack everything else up. Any rubbish that they were responsible for was put into a plastic bag, which was then stuffed into Thomas’ school bag to throw away later. The books were put into Newt’s, seeing as they belonged to him. Once they were totally satisfied that the bus was as tidy as they’d originally found it, they left it behind them.

“So where are we going?” asked Minho.

Teresa shrugged.

“You’ll see,” said Thomas. “It’s not far.”

Newt said nothing, seemingly content to just follow Thomas to wherever he was leading them.

Very little was said for the rest of the journey.

Before too long, the group came to a stop outside of a building.

Thomas’ apartment building.

“Really, Tommy?” said Newt. “ _This_ is your plan B?”

Thomas shrugged. “Yeah. Simple, right?”

“Are you _sure_ this is a good ide-”

Newt cut himself off when Thomas stepped towards his apartment’s front door and opened it.

“I’m home,” said Thomas. He gestured for the group to step forwards with him.

“Hey there, Thomas, I was wondering if-” Thomas’ mother stopped talking when she turned away from the stove to see the group of children standing just inside the door. She looked at them in silence for a few seconds, then said, “What are you doing?”

Thomas grabbed Teresa’s wrist and pulled her forwards. “I’m helping a friend in trouble. That’s what.”

Thomas’ mother turned the heat on the stove down and approached the group.

When Thomas’ mother raised her hands up, Thomas didn’t miss the way that Teresa flinched, bracing herself. But Thomas’ mother didn’t hit them. Instead, she placed her hands on Thomas and Teresa’s heads and ruffled their hair.

She looked over their heads at the other two. “Are you two staying for dinner?”

“We wouldn’t want to-”

“Yes!” Minho interrupted Newt’s attempt at being polite. “We would _love_ to stay for dinner.”

“Well, then.” Thomas’ mother retreated back towards the stove to continue cooking. “You can help Thomas set the table. Not you, Teresa. You can just sit on the sofa and wait.”

Grinning, Minho took his shoes and coat off and began to grab cutlery out of the drawer. Thomas caught Newt’s eye and smiled, before they both began to do the same.


	47. Chapter 47

“Mum,” said Thomas, “how much curry did you actually make?”

She hummed in thought. “Well, I had a feeling that you’d be bringing friends over tonight, so I made extra.”

“There’s enough here to feed a small army!”

She laughed. “It’s a good thing I was right, then, isn’t it?”

Even with the three extra people to feed, there was still plenty of food left over once they were done.

“Hey, Tommy,” Newt grinned, “I think I know what you’re gonna be eating for the next week.”

“Slim it, Newt.”

Newt and Minho both laughed.

“Um,” said Teresa, “can I go and get something?”

“Of course,” said Thomas’ mother. “You don’t need to ask.”

Teresa looked uncertain, but nodded, and slipped out of her chair. She walked to where they’d all dumped their bags by the door and pulled something out of hers. Instead of going back to her seat, she walked around to the other side of the table and handed what she was holding to Thomas’ mother.

It was the tupperware box from that morning.

“Thank you,” said Teresa. “It was delicious.”

Thomas’ mother smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.” As Teresa headed back to her chair, Thomas’ mother looked over at the boys. “So, where were you kids hiding her?”

Thomas caught the other two’s eyes and shook his head. He didn’t want his mother to have anything to do with the bus. Knowing her, she might want to go have a look around, and Thomas couldn’t let that happen. He wasn’t going to let his mother get anywhere near the killer. Her death _had_ been back in the future, but he wasn’t willing to take any risks.

“Somewhere safe,” said Newt.

“At least, we thought it was,” added Minho. “We brought her here because we realised that it wasn’t.”

“Alright.” Thomas’ mother stood. “I need to make a phone call. Thomas, if you could rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, that would be great.” She walked down the hall and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“Who d’ya think she’s calling?” asked Minho.

Thomas shrugged. “CPS or Mr Janson or someone.” He stood and started collecting up the plates. “She’ll be trying to get this whole thing sorted.”

Newt stood and took his own plate to the sink.

Thomas joined him there. “It won’t take me long to rinse these, so you can sit down and let me handle it.”

Newt turned on the water and held his plate underneath the stream, letting the sauce wash off. “It’ll take even less time if I help, won’t it?” He pulled open the dishwasher and placed his dish inside.

Thomas wanted to argue, wanted to stop Newt from feeling like he always had to jump in and help. But despite that, he _was_ happy that his friend wanted to help him. He was right, anyway. It would go a lot faster with two of them working on it than just one of them. So, instead of arguing, he sighed in such a way that he hoped got his general point across. Newt’s smile told him that it did.

They were just finishing up when Thomas’ mother returned from her phone call. Minho and Teresa had moved to the sofa and were deep in conversation, so didn’t notice her return at first. They only looked up when Newt and Thomas joined them.

“Teresa,” said Thomas’ mother, “would you like to stay the night?”

Teresa nodded.

Thomas turned to the others. “Do you guys wanna stay over, too? It’s not like there’s school tomorrow.”

Minho’s face lit up. “Like a group sleepover? That’d be _awesome!_ ”

“I’d need to go ask my parents first,” said Newt. “And I’d need to get some pyjamas and stuff.”

“Yeah, I need to get my stuff too,” said Minho.

“Don’t you need to ask?”

“Nah,” said Minho. “I’m usually in bed by the time my parents get home, so it won’t make much difference to them. I’ll just leave them a note explaining where I am.”

“Okay.” Newt stood from where he’d sat himself on the floor. “You and I can go do that, then.”

Minho turned back to Thomas. “We’ll be right back.” He grinned. “Don’t have too much fun without us.”

“What about you?” Thomas turned to Teresa once the boys had gone. “You can’t exactly run home to grab a change of clothes.”

“She can borrow some of yours,” said Thomas’ mother.

“Huh?”

“What?”

“Oh come on.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t have anything that’s clean.”

“I do, it’s just-”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Logically, there wasn’t one. “Are you okay with that?” he asked Teresa.

She thought for a moment, then nodded. “So long as it’s clean, I don’t mind.”

“Minho will love it.”

She grinned. “He’ll be so happy.”

Thomas stood. “C’mon, I’ve got a few sets of pyjamas you can choose from.”

Teresa went to follow, but stopped and said, “Could I shower first? I haven’t been able to for a few days.”

“How about you pick out what pyjamas you want to wear, and then go and shower,” Thomas’ mother suggested. “That saves you from having to walk around in a towel.”

Teresa nodded her agreement, and followed Thomas into his room.

Thomas pulled open the bottom drawer of his dresser and pulled out the pyjamas he had in there. “Take your pick,” he said. “I promise they’re all clean.”

Teresa didn’t take much time at all to decide. She picked up set that had a blue background and was completely covered in symbols denoting different chemical compounds. Thomas remembered this set. He’d liked it when he got it because it looked cool and sciencey. At the time, he hadn’t known what any of the compounds actually were, so he was pretty sure that Teresa didn’t either. He’d been pretty sad when he’d outgrown it.

“Any particular reason why you picked those?” he asked.

Teresa shrugged. “I like science.”

She left the room, taking them with her.

As Thomas was in the process of putting the other sets of pyjamas back into the drawer, his mother came in.

“So,” she said, “how’s this going to work?”

“What do you mean?”

“Tonight. Where are you all sleeping? Are you going to all be in the front room, or in here? If you’re in here, will somebody get the bed?”

Thomas shut the drawer and stood. “It’ll probably be warmer in here. As for whether somebody gets the bed, we’ll decide that together.”

“Will the bed need changing?”

Thomas shrugged. “Only if we decide that somebody’s getting the bed and they _want_ the bed to be changed. Otherwise it’s not a big deal.”

“Okay kiddo,” she said. She made her way back to the bedroom door. “When the other two get back I need to talk to you all about the plan for tomorrow. Then, so long as you go to sleep at a sensible time, I’m gonna let you do what you like for the rest of the evening.” She pointed at him. “Within reason, though.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to worry.”

She laughed good-naturedly. “I know. Does all that sound okay?”

Thomas smiled. “Yes, mum. That sounds great.”


	48. Chapter 48

Teresa was still in the bathroom when Newt and Minho got back.

“You didn’t need to come with me, you know,” Minho said to Newt as Thomas let them in. “I know my way around town perfectly fine on my own. It would’ve been faster if we’d split up.”

“It would’ve been faster, yeah, but it’s dark out,” said Newt. They weren’t looking at each other, both busy taking their shoes and coats off.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s safer to stick together, right?” Thomas interjected. Newt shot him a thankful look. “And it probably didn’t take you _that_ much longer than if you’d split up.”

Minho sighed. “Fine, I guess you’re right.” He looked up at Thomas. “Where’s Teresa?”

“Shower.”

Minho grinned and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Newt shoving him. Hard. He stumbled, but caught his balance quickly. He whipped around to his friend. “What the shuck was _that_ for?”

Newt simply raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head.

Thomas fought the temptation to raise his hand like he was in a classroom, and instead just asked, “What _was_ that for?”

Newt shot him a winning smile, mischief in his eyes. “Min was just about to say something incredibly stupid, but that’s not gonna happen, now is it?”

Minho grumbled something, grabbed Newt’s bag out of his hands, and shuffled past Thomas. “I’ll put our stuff in your room,” he called back.

The shower stopped running.

“She’ll be out soon,” said Thomas.

“So what’s the plan now?” asked Newt as they sat on the sofa.

Thomas smiled. “Now we hand responsibility over to the grown ups. Mum said that once you were back and Teresa was ready, she’d tell us what’s gonna happen tomorrow. She’s sorting it all out.”

Newt huffed a sigh and let himself relax completely against the back of the sofa. “That’s a shucking relief.”

Thomas wanted to tell him that, while yes it was great that the Teresa situation would soon be resolved, she wasn’t the only one they needed to help. Unfortunately, Minho chose that exact moment to get back within earshot, so he couldn’t. Not yet.

They spent the next few minutes talking about nothing in particular. The conversation died away, however, when Teresa exited the bathroom.

Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and she was wearing Thomas’ borrowed pyjamas. She looked over at Thomas’ mother and said, “Where should I put my clothes?”

Thomas’ mother smiled down at her. “Put them on my bed for now.”

Teresa nodded, and quickly did so. When she got back to the sofa she took one look at the three boys sat on it and appeared to decide that she didn’t want to do that again, thanks, and she sat on the floor in front of it.

They all looked up at Thomas’ mother.

“Firstly,” she said, “sleeping arrangements for tonight.”

“Teresa’s borrowing my sleeping bag at the moment,” said Newt. “I’ve brought my sister’s, and Minho’s got his.”

Thomas winced. “Sonya’s not gonna be happy with you.”

“It’s one night, it won’t kill her. It’s not like she’s using it right now.”

“Thomas also has a bed,” said his mother.

“It’s _his_ bed,” said Newt, “so he should sleep in it.”

“Newt,” said Thomas, “I’d much rather we  _ all  _ sleep on the floor than have just me in the bed and the rest of you on the floor. In fact, how about we just do that? Good that?”

Teresa and Minho agreed readily. Newt looked around, realised he wasn’t going to win this discussion, and sighed. He gestured to indicate that they should have their way.

Thomas’ mother smiled. “Glad to have that sorted. Now, the plan for tomorrow.” She cleared her throat. “Earlier, I called your class teacher and informed him of the situation. He told me that he and CPS were going to try and meet with your mother tomorrow. I assume you were already aware that they also tried to meet her today?” Teresa nodded. “What we’re going to do tomorrow is have you there too. Hopefully, your presence will stop your mother from running and hiding like she did earlier this evening.”

“Then will this be over?” asked Thomas. “Will Teresa be safe?”

His mother nodded. “If all goes as planned, CPS will take custody of her immediately.”

“So they’re gonna use her as bait?” asked Minho. “Are you _sure_ it’s a good idea to let her mother anywhere near her? How are they gonna make sure she’s safe?”

“I’ll be okay,” said Teresa. “I’d rather have to face her one more time and then get to leave, than have this drag on much longer.”

“Even so,” said Thomas’ mother, “I’ll be there too, and I’ll step in if she tries anything.” She raised an eyebrow at Thomas. “I take it you’ll be wanting to come along too?”

Thomas hesitated, then shrugged. There wasn’t any point in denying it.

She smiled “So long as you stay back and out of the way, then you can come too.”

He nodded. That sounded good to him. He wanted to see for himself that Teresa’s mother was dealt with, but that didn’t mean he was in any rush to put himself in harm’s way.

Thomas’ mother looked at her watch. “That’s all I have to say, other than that you mustn’t stay up too late. I want lights out by midnight at the latest, got it?”

They reluctantly agreed, and quickly made their way into Thomas’ bedroom.

“So,” said Minho once the door was closed, “Teresa.”

“Minho,” she said in response.

“I was just wondering whose pyjamas you’re wearing?”

Thomas and Newt sat on the edge of the bed, watching the other two standing in the middle of the room.

Teresa let out an overly exaggerated sigh. “I couldn’t exactly rush home and get my own, now could I? So Tom’s letting me borrow some of his.”

“But-”

“But nothing.” She picked up the sleeping bag she’d been using and began pulling it out of the stuff-bag. “The only reason _I_ can think of that it would matter to you is if you’d prefer I was borrowing some of _your_ pyjamas instead.”

Thomas heard Newt just barely manage to stifle a laugh.

Minho just looked stunned. He opened and closed his mouth silently a couple of times, before finally managing to say, “That’s not what I was getting at!”

“Sure,” she said, not looking at him as she spread the sleeping bag out. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

Newt gave up trying to stop himself laughing and let it out, falling backwards as he did so.

“I do _not_ have a crush on you,” said Minho, gesturing wildly.

“Oh, I know,” said Teresa. She looked up at him, grinning. “But, like I said, it’s fun to watch you squirm.”

Minho stood there in silence for a few moments, the only sound in the room being Newt desperately trying to get his laughter under control. Eventually, Minho mumbled something about wanting to get changed, before grabbing his bag and leaving the room.

Thomas turned to Newt. “You are way too easily entertained.”

Between deep breaths, Newt managed to force out, “C’mon, that was priceless!” He looked over at Teresa. “You agree, right?”

“I mean, I didn’t think it was _that_ funny, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be, just gimme a sec.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile.

In the present that he’d come from, Teresa, Minho, and Newt were all dead.

Seeing them here, joking around together, laughing, _happy,_ made him feel more certain than he’d ever been that he’d changed that.

He must have.


	49. Chapter 49

Of course, the Newt situation was actually a little more complicated than that.

Thomas had intentionally not been thinking about it. It wasn’t currently relevant. It wasn’t an immediate risk or threat. If it was still going to happen, it wouldn’t be for nearly another decade. Spending lots of time thinking about it wouldn’t be helpful at all.

But still.

Newt had _killed himself._

Right at that moment, watching his friend, his _best_ friend, lying back on the bed and laughing at something that wasn’t even that funny, and seeing the joy on his face...

Thomas didn’t want to ever let anything bad happen to him.

With a surge of determination that he hadn’t even known he had, he knew that he didn’t care if he really _did_ have to live the next 18 years all over again. He’d do it. He do whatever he needed to in order to make _sure_ that Newt was okay, and that he lived a long and happy life.

No matter how many times it took.

Teresa snapped her fingers in front of his face, interrupting him from his thoughts. “Where should I put this?” she asked, holding up the damp towel that had just been holding her hair.

Thomas pointed towards the radiator. “Hang it on there to dry.”

As she did so, she said, “Have you got a brush or comb or something? I need to brush my hair before it dries or it’ll get tangled.”

Thomas couldn’t remember if he had any, or where they’d be if he did. He shrugged. “My mum should have one you can borrow.”

“Okay, I’ll ask her.” She opened the bedroom door. “You guys could get changed while I’m gone? I’ll knock before coming back in.” With that, she left.

When the door clicked shut, Thomas looked over at Newt. He’d stopped laughing, having finally gotten a hold of himself, and was looking up at Thomas fondly

“You alright there, Tommy?”

“Huh?”

Newt sat up. The smile slipped away as he gestured towards Thomas’ face. “I dunno, you just seem kinda... upset?” He ended it with a questioning tone, like he wasn’t sure whether that was the right word to use.

Thomas sighed. “I was just thinking, is all.”

“About what?” He shifted so he was facing Thomas directly. “Or is it connected to the thing that you haven’t fully explained yet, but are totally going to once this is all over?”

“It _is_ connected, but...” Thomas trailed off. Newt was looking at him with such sincerity, concern, and trust, that it was almost overwhelming. Not for the first time, Thomas was struck with the desire to tell him everything all at once. But Newt was right, it was a better idea to wait until it was all over. “Are _you_ okay?”

Newt’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Course I am. Why d’ya ask?”

Thomas smiled softly. “No reason.” He shifted as if to get off the bed, but Newt caught his hand, stopping him.

“Don’t lie to me.” Newt’s gaze was such that Thomas knew he wasn’t allowed to look away. He didn’t sound angry or unkind, but he was being very, very serious. “You told me that you have a superpower. And whoever it was who left that stuff in the bus last night, that was the killer, wasn’t it?” He waited for Thomas’ nod. “So I’m pretty sure you’ve been right about everything so far. You told me that Minho was in danger, and told me that all the other targets were girls. I’m not questioning any of that. I believe you.” He took Thomas’ other hand. “But I _need_ you not to lie to me. I can’t help you if you’re not being honest.” He took a deep breath. “So, I’ll ask again. Why did you ask if _I_ was okay, when I’m not a target at all?”

“Because there are other things that can happen to a person than being murdered.” Thomas moved so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, mirroring Newt, still holding his hands. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “Because you know something I don’t.”

Thomas looked away. “We’re supposed to be getting changed-”

“Tommy.”

“Newt, what do you want me to say?” He looked back at his friend.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Newt sighed and said, “I don’t even know.” He squeezed Thomas’ hands and let go. “Just, is it something that I need to be concerned about?”

Thomas shook his head, then nodded, then said, “Not any time soon. It’s probably best if you don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” Newt slid off the bed. He began pulling the sleeping bag that he was going to be using out of it’s bag. “Just make sure you tell me about it _before_ it’s actually an issue. If we can be warned that something bad’s gonna happen, I wanna take full advantage of it.”

Thomas gave a short laugh, and started to unfurl his own sleeping bag. “I dunno how useful my knowledge is gonna be anymore. We’ve already changed so much.”

Newt opened his mouth like he was going to respond, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Neither of them had been expecting it, so the sudden sound made them jump.

“Are you two ready?” came Teresa’s voice.

“Not yet,” Thomas called back.

“What’ve you been doing that’s taking so long?” she asked. However, the sound of her footsteps walking away told them that she hadn’t waited for an answer.

Newt caught Thomas’ eye and grinned. “We should probably get changed before she skins us or something."

Thomas grabbed his pyjamas from under the pillow, faced the wall, and started to change into them. He heard the rustling sound of Newt changing behind him.

When Thomas was done, he waited a moment to make sure that Newt was finished before turning around. Newt startled and quickly turned away.

“You good?” asked Thomas.

“Yeah,” said Newt. “I’m good.”

“I’ll tell the others it’s safe to come in, then,” said Thomas as he made his way to the door.

Newt didn’t respond, instead resuming spreading out his sleeping bag.

Thomas left the door open as he made his way into the main room of the apartment. His mother was sitting at the table, reading a book. Teresa and Minho were sat on the sofa, talking quietly to each other. Minho saw Thomas first, and stood.

“You shanks finally ready?”

Thomas nodded. “Yup, we’re good.”

They followed him back into his room, and Teresa immediately started giggling.

“Newt, you’ve gone all red!” She turned on Thomas. “Tom, what did you do?”

Newt _had_ gone a little red, but Thomas didn’t know why. “I didn’t do anything!”

“He didn’t, it’s not his fault,” mumbled Newt. “S’just warm in here, is all.”

“Oh, _really_ ?” said Teresa in a sing-song voice. “I didn’t think it was _that_ warm...”

“Teresa,” said Newt. “Stop talking.”

Teresa held her hands up in surrender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.... remember those exams i mentioned all the way back in chapter 1? well, they're now happening. updates will probably be more sporadic throughout june. but don't worry! i'm definitely not going to abandon this, and it'll be back to business as usual in july!!
> 
> also, this fic is now being translated into russian !!! (i still haven't stopped freaking out about this omg) it's being done by [Awesome_Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awesome_Prince/pseuds/Awesome_Prince) and you can find it over [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6940392)!!
> 
> thank you so much for sticking with this story!!!!


	50. Chapter 50

Minho took one look at how the sleeping bags had been arranged and shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Absolutely not. You shanks aren’t allowed to do that.”

Newt tilted his head in confusion. “Mate, what’cha talking about?”

Minho pointed. “Thomas and Teresa’s sleeping bags are next to each other. Who knows what they could-”

Slightly stunned that Minho was actually going there, Thomas cut him off. “Dude, we’re _11,_ stop.”

“I’m just saying-”

“I’m sure that even if Teresa and Tommy _were_ in love, they’d be able to control themselves.” Newt smirked. “But, if it’s really gonna bother you so much, you can just go between them yourself. Good that?”

Teresa shrugged and dragged her sleeping bag away from Thomas’. “That sounds fine to me.” She looked up at Minho. “Is there a problem?”

Minho shook his head quickly. “No, I’m good, there isn’t a problem, that sounds like a completely reasonable solution, I'll just, uh...” he trailed off, looking around for something.

Thomas picked up the last sleeping bag. “This is yours, right?”

“Yeah,” said Minho.

“Give it here,” said Teresa, gesturing for Thomas to throw it towards her. He did, and she caught it and began to unfurl it. “Although really, it’s not Tom sleeping next to _me_ that you should be worried about.”

“Teresa...” said Newt, so quietly that Thomas could only just hear it, and had a feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be able to.

“What do you mean?” asked Minho. “You’re the only girl here.”

Teresa looked up at Minho. “Wow, that was dumb.” She looked over at Thomas. “Back me up here.”

“I’m not even entirely sure what you were talking about.”

Teresa rolled her eyes and tutted. “Newt, how on earth do you cope with these two?”

Newt chuckled and lay back on his sleeping bag. “Usually Alby and Siggy are around to actually be somewhat smart, so it balances out.”

“Hey!”

 

“Psst”

“Yes, Minho?”

“Are any of you shanks awake?”

Thomas heard Newt sigh and say, “Obviously, seeing as I answered you.”

The lights were off and they were all in their respective sleeping bags. They were supposed to be asleep, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

“Thomas, Teresa, you guys awake?” There was a moment of silence, then Minho yelped. “You didn’t have to poke me _that_ hard, c’mon Teresa!”

Thomas laughed softly. “I’m awake, too.”

Minho sat up. “Do any of you think you’ll be asleep soon?”

“It’s not looking likely,” said Newt.

“What should we do, then?”

“Actually _try_ to get to sleep?” came Teresa’s voice.

“Yeah, but that’s boring,” said Minho. “We could talk instead? Or play a game?”

“Whatever we do, could you keep your voice down?” Thomas sighed. “If we wake my mum, she won’t be happy.”

“Sorry,” Minho whispered. He lay back down again.

Thomas felt Newt shift next to him. “If we’re gonna talk, then what should we talk about?”

“Um...” said Minho as he struggled to come up with a conversation topic.

“Seriously, guys,” hissed Teresa. “Newt, Minho, you two might not _need_ to be awake tomorrow, but Tom and I _do,_ so could you _please_ just go to sleep?”

“Okay, sorry, I’ll shut up,” said Minho.

Thomas rolled over, turning away from Minho. His face ended up millimeters from Newt’s, their noses brushing together.

There was just enough light in the room for Thomas to be able to see Newt’s eyes were wide open.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Again, Tommy? Really?” Newt rolled his eyes, but his smile gave away the fact that he wasn’t actually annoyed.

Thomas shrugged. “I’m probably gonna keep asking. Sorry.”

“Tom, I will throw something at you.”

“Sorry!” Thomas squeezed his eyes shut.

Newt’s quiet laughter, Thomas decided, was one of the best sounds to fall asleep to.

 

When Thomas woke up, he couldn’t move.

At first, he didn’t know what the weight on his chest was. And he didn’t exactly want to be awake anyway, so he didn’t try to figure it out, instead keeping his eyes shut and trying to slip back into sleep.

Unfortunately, sounds from outside of the room and movement on his other side cleared the fog from his mind, and he was forced to give up.

He opened his eyes.

The reason that he hadn’t been able to move was because Newt had curled right up against him. He’d rested his head on Thomas’ chest, and had freed an arm from his own sleeping bag and placed it around Thomas’ waist. He was still fast asleep.

Forget not being _able_ to move, Thomas didn’t _want_ to. Newt looked so comfortable and at peace that Thomas couldn’t bear to disturb him.

The movement on Thomas’ other side increased. Minho was trying to wriggle out of his sleeping bag. “Anyone else awake?” he whisper-shouted as he did so.

Thomas turned his head to catch Minho’s eye, and shushed him.

Minho noticed the sleeping Newt, mouthed _‘Sorry!’_ and quickly left the room.

Teresa gave a quiet groan and rolled over so she was facing Thomas. “Sleep well?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Thomas replied. “You?”

“Yeah. You ready for today?”

Thomas smiled. “Surely I’m the one who should be asking you that?”

Teresa gave a small shrug. “Yeah, but I know _I_ am.”

Thomas laughed softly. “I’m good.”

Teresa nodded towards Newt. “He looks comfy.” She smiled. “Does he do that a lot?”

“What, sleep through Minho being loud? Or cling onto something?”

“Both, I guess.”

It had been a very long time since Thomas had been in the same room as a sleeping Newt, so he wasn’t sure. Newt at this age had definitely been more of a heavy sleeper, but the cuddling - if that’s what this was - was probably new? The last time Thomas had seen Newt asleep was probably...

If he was being completely honest with himself, it was probably at that end of school party.

He cut that thought off before it could go any further. He was _not_ going to think about that now. Or ever.

“Newt can sleep through most things if he wants to. I’m not so sure about the clinging.”

Teresa’s eyes sparkled with something that Thomas couldn’t quite name. “Oh really? To me, it doesn’t look like him holding onto you like that is new at all.”

Thomas wanted to shrug at her, but didn’t want to risk waking Newt. He hoped his face would communicate the shrug effectively.

If her quiet laughter was anything to go by, it did. She rolled onto her back and smiled at the ceiling. “You’re so dumb sometimes, you know that, right?”

“Huh? What-”

“Don’t worry.” She shook her head, still looking upwards, not at Thomas. “I’m sure you’ll get it one day.”

Thomas was trying to think of a suitable response when the bedroom door opened. Minho walked in and stopped just a few paces from the open door. “Thomas’ mum says breakfast is nearly ready, so you shanks have gotta get up.”

Teresa let out an exaggerated sigh and started getting out of her sleeping bag.

Thomas turned his head back towards Newt, who was still apparently dead to the world.

“Newt,” he said. “You need to wake up now.”

No response.

Thomas carefully pulled one of his arms free, placed it on Newt’s shoulder, and gently shook him. “C’mon, mate. There’s food.”

A small groan escaped Newt’s mouth, and he tightened his grip around Thomas’ waist, burrowing his head further into Thomas’ chest.

“Okay, well now I _know_ you’re awake.”

A sound that sounded suspiciously like a mumble of _‘No I’m not’_ came from Newt’s general direction, muffled by the layers of fabric between them.

Thomas let out a bubble of laughter. He poked Newt’s side a couple of times. Newt just moaned his displeasure and curled inwards even more.

“Hey, Newt,” said Thomas, his grin clearly audible in his voice. “Are you ticklish?”

Newt pushed himself away just enough so that he could glare at Thomas, one hand resting where his head had been moments before. “Don’t you dare.”

Thomas wasn’t sure why he did it. Maybe it was the sight of Newt’s sleepy glare, coupled with his impressive bedhead. Or maybe he just wanted to. Anyway, Thomas found himself running his hand through Newt’s hair, saying, “Yeah, yeah, c’mon sleepyhead, or Minho’ll eat all the food.”

As Thomas did this, Newt’s eyes cleared a bit as he woke up some more. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head sharply. “Okay,” he said when he opened them, and he pushed himself away from Thomas and started to get out of his sleeping bag.

Thomas quickly followed suit, and all four of them left the bedroom.

Thomas’ mother had already put breakfast on the table for them. There were four plates, each piled high with eggs and bacon. Each plate had a glass placed next to it and large cartons of orange and apple juice had been placed in the middle of the table.

Thomas picked a seat at random and practically collapsed into it. “Thanks mum,” he said as he reached for the orange juice.

“Thank you Miss Cooper,” said Minho as he sat down.

“Thanks Mary,” Newt mumbled as he did the same.

Teresa said nothing.

She stood behind the chair that was to be hers, staring at the plate of food.

Except, she was staring at it, but Thomas didn’t think that she was really _seeing_ it. She blinked a couple of times, but still didn’t move.

A tear fell from her eye.

Thomas had honestly lost count of the amount of times Teresa had nearly cried. It had been happening more and more, but she’d never actually cried for real. At least, not that he’d seen.

But the falling tear hit the table and something inside of her must’ve snapped.

More tears fell. She started sobbing into her hands, and couldn’t stop.

Thomas looked around at the others. Minho was sending him a slightly panicked look, while Newt looked like he wanted to go over to her, but wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

Before any of the boys could get their act together, Thomas’ mother reached her first. She pulled Teresa into a hug and let her cry it out.

“There, there,” she said. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hit 200 kudos the other day, holy shit !!! thank you all so much !!!!! it makes me really happy to know that so many people are enjoying this !!!!!!!!


	51. Chapter 51

Thomas, his mother, and Teresa all stood facing the door.

It was still early, so nobody in any of the other houses on the street appeared to be awake yet. That suited them just fine. The smaller the audience for this, the better.

“Go on,” said Thomas’ mother. “We’re right here.”

Teresa took a deep breath and stepped forward.

She knocked on the door.

A second passed, then she said, “Mum?”

For a moment, Thomas thought that they were going to avoided and ignored, like the people from CPS had been the day before.

Then the door opened.

“Teresa!” Her mother loomed over her, her hands balling into fists. “Where the hell have you been? You little shit, you can’t just-”

She glanced upwards and cut herself off, noticing Thomas’ mother. She narrowed her eyes. “I should’ve known that _you’d_ be involved. Who the fuck do you think you are? You can’t just go around stealing other people’s kids!”

“Ms Paige,” said Thomas’ mother, her voice remaining level and calm, in stark contrast to Teresa’s mother’s yells, “your daughter was gone for three days. In all that time, did you actually look for her at all?”

Teresa’s mother took a step backwards, as if she’s been struck. “Oh, so _I’m_ the bad guy now? My child gets kidnapped and _I’m_ the bad guy?” She unclenched her fists and shook her head harshly. “I’m not just gonna put up with this shit. Not from you. You stole my kid, I’ll kill you for that!”

She jerked to the side, where a shovel was leaning against the front of the house.

Thomas didn’t wait to see what she was planning on doing with it. He grabbed his mother’s arm and pulled her back as hard as he could. Once he’d regained his balance, he looked up to see that Teresa had wrapped her arms around her mother’s middle and pushed her away, towards the open door. Their combined efforts had meant that when Teresa’s mother had swung the shovel, she’d only hit air.

No, not quite. Thomas looked up at his mother to see a thin line of blood across her forehead. It wasn’t much, but it was there. It was enough. It was proof that Teresa’s mother had really just swung a shovel at his mother’s head.

She could’ve _died._

“Teresa, you little brat, let go of me!”

Thomas’ mother brought a hand up to her head and wiped away some of the blood. “Ms Paige, please, think about how Teresa must be feeling to see you like this.”

“Who gave you the right to an opinion on how I deal with _my_ daughter?”

Thomas saw red.

“You should’ve lost _your_ right when you decided it was acceptable to beat her up and lock her in the shed to freeze! She was gone for half a week and you didn’t even care!”

“Shut _up_ you stupid kid! You have no idea how tough it is being a parent!” Teresa’s mother jerked her body hard, breaking Teresa’s grip around her. She used her momentum to throw Teresa to the ground, and tightened her grip around the handle of the shovel.

She went to swing it again.

Thomas was about to pull his mother back out of the way, when a new voice made everyone freeze.

“Ms Paige!”

They all turned to look at who’d spoken.

It was the man from Child Protective Services, the same as Thomas had seen the previous evening. With him was the same woman as before, along with Mr Janson.

“We’d like to speak with you about your daughter.”

Mr Janson moved so that he was standing behind Thomas and his mother, rather than next to the man and woman.

Teresa’ mother lowered the shovel, but didn’t let it go. She narrowed her eyes accusingly at Thomas’ mother. “You tricked me, you brought them here, you-”

“No,” said the CPS woman. “She’s here because we asked her to be.”

“You’ve been avoiding us,” said the man. “This was the only way we could think of to make sure that we could meet.”

“Thank you,” said Mr Janson quietly to Thomas’ mother. “And I’m sorry you had to get so involved in this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” said Thomas’ mother. “I had a few things I wanted to say to her myself. I should thank _you_ for the opportunity to say them.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you!” snapped Teresa’s mother. “And last time I checked, kidnapping was against the law!” She pointed a finger at Thomas’ mother. “I’m not doing anything until someone calls the police and has her arrested.”

Thomas looked up at his mother again. The shovel hadn’t hurt her too badly, but still. Teresa’s mother had swung a shovel at her. And everybody here had seen it. What was Teresa’s mother thinking, demanding they call the police? Didn’t she realise that if they were called right now, the only person who’d be getting in any sort of trouble was her? Teresa’s ‘kidnapping’ could just be explained as her running away. It’s not like that was all that far off from the truth.

The man held out his hands in a placating manner. “Nobody’s going to call the police. Not until we’re completely satisfied about Teresa’s welfare.”

“What are you talking about, her ‘welfare’?” Her lip curled. “She’ll be perfectly fine now that she’s back home.”

The woman shook her head. “I’m afraid that isn’t good enough. Based off of what we’ve seen today, we’re going to have to take custody of her.”

Teresa’s mother threw the shovel to the ground. “You are _not_ taking my child away from me.” She grabbed Teresa’s arm and began dragging her away. “If you won’t call the police, then we’ll just go there ourselves.”

“No, Ms Paige!”

“You’re not helping your daughter.”

Thomas went to run after them, to take Teresa back, but his mother grabbed his wrist so that he couldn’t. “You could get hurt,” she hissed. He hated that she was right.

Teresa’s mother snapped at Teresa to stop dragging her feet.

The Teresa of just a couple of weeks ago wouldn’t have been resisting at all. That Teresa would’ve just let her mother take her way, would’ve let her hurt her without complaint. That Teresa wouldn’t have _dared_ stop her mother from doing anything. The shovel would’ve hit its mark for sure.

But the Teresa of now wasn’t willing to put up with this anymore. The Teresa of now had seen what normal families were like. She’d seen what normal mothers were like. She knew that her mother’s actions _weren’t_ normal, and _weren’t_ okay.

She was only 11, and small, and could risk serious injury to herself if she fought back too hard. But Thomas was delighted to see that she was trying anyway.

The people from CPS were yelling after Teresa’s mother, demanding that she come back. Thomas let his own mother hold him still, silently counting down from 20. He promised himself that if he reached zero, and Teresa was still being dragged away, then he’d get out of his mother’s grip and give chase, damn the consequences.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

Teresa and her mother were just one house down the road when a new voice called out, silencing all others.

_“Ava!”_

Teresa’s mother froze. Teresa broke free from her mother’s grasp and ran back to the group, grabbing onto Thomas’ mother’s side.

Teresa’s mother turned around.


	52. Chapter 52

The new voice had come from a woman. Thomas didn’t know who she was, but Teresa’s mother seemed to recognise her instantly.

“Ava,” repeated the woman. “I’m so sorry.” She took a few steps forward, putting herself between Teresa’s mother and everybody else. Teresa’s mother looked like she was frozen to the spot. “I should never have left the two of you alone. I could see that you couldn’t cope on your own. I should’ve taken you both in long ago.”

“Mum...” Teresa’s mother sounded like she was close to tears.

The woman, who was apparently Teresa’s grandmother, turned to face the group. “Please don’t blame Ava for all this. Her boyfriend used to do the same to her. I thought that they’d be fine after he died, but I was wrong.” She cast her eyes to the ground. “This is my fault.”

“She swung a shovel at my mum’s head,” Thomas deadpanned.

Teresa’s grandmother nodded sadly. “I’m deeply sorry that your family got dragged into this.” She turned back to her daughter and slowly walked towards her.

Teresa’s mother sunk to the ground. Her own mother crouched next to her. She spoke to her, in a voice Thomas couldn’t quite hear, and soon they were clinging onto each other, sobbing.

It was an impressive act, but Thomas wasn’t buying it. Sure, Teresa’s grandmother might actually feel guilty about what had been going on, but there was so fucking way that Teresa’s mother gave a shit. She was only worried about herself. It didn’t matter to Thomas one bit that she’d been abused first. As far as he was concerned, there was no excuse for anyone to ever pass that abuse on. Especially not to a defenseless child.

Thomas turned away and looked at Teresa, who was still holding onto his mother’s side. She wasn’t buying it either. She wasn’t even looking at her mother, instead looking at the road out of the corner of her eye. He couldn’t blame her. The sight of her mother’s personal pity party was making _him_ feel sick. He couldn’t imagine how it must’ve made _Teresa_ feel.

She noticed him looking at her and gave him a tired smile. She detached herself from his mother and grabbed his hand. He squeezed it in reassurance.

Thomas’ mother walked around them and headed for the crying women. She crouched down next to the pair of them and started talking. Thomas still couldn’t hear what was being said.

“Teresa,” said Mr Janson from close behind them, “why don’t you go inside and get some of your things. Just the important stuff. You might not be coming back for a while.”

Teresa nodded, squeezed Thomas’ hand before letting it go, and disappeared into the house.

Thomas smiled up at his teacher. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr Janson chuckled. “What are you thanking me for? It’s because of _you_ that we’re all here. Without your actions, and your bravery and determination, this all could’ve ended a whole lot worse. You’re probably the reason why Teresa’s still alive.” He smiled down at him. “You’ve done a good thing. You should be proud of yourself.”

Slightly stunned, Thomas watched Mr Janson walk away to talk to the people from CPS.

He wasn’t sure why hearing Mr Janson say that made him so happy, but it did.

It really did.

Clamping down on a smile, Thomas walked into Teresa’s house through the still-open front door. He could help her pack up some of her things.

“Teresa?” he called out.

“I’m up here,” came the response.

Thomas followed her voice up the stairs and found her instantly. She was standing at the threshold of a room, staring inside.

“She trashed it,” she said, her voice not betraying any emotion.

“She did what?”

“My room. She trashed it.” She stepped aside so Thomas could look in. “This was the tidiest room in the whole house. I worked really hard to keep it that way.” She sniffed. “And she’s just _trashed_ it.”

The room was a mess. It was much worse than Thomas’ room had ever been. Papers had been scattered across the room, many of them ripped to shreds. The wardrobe had been flung open and clothes had been thrown everywhere. The bookshelf had been tipped over.

“Hey,” he said, turning to face Teresa. She looked at him, tears forming in her eyes. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “It’s okay. You’re not gonna be living here anymore anyway. We just need to grab what you want from here and go, and she can clean up her own mess, okay?”

She made a noise that was half laughter, half a sob. “She’ll never do it.”

Thomas smiled. “Then that just means that she’ll be forced to live with a physical reminder of how awful a person she is forever.”

Teresa smiled. She looked back into the room. “I’ll need some of my clothes. And there’s a couple of books I like.”

“Any wool?”

“No. I’ve got all of it in my bag already. I needed it for your mittens.”

Thomas held his hands up to show off that he was wearing them. “And I love them.”

“I’m glad you do.”

Thomas turned back to the room. “Right,” he said. “Lets track your stuff down.”

 

Half an hour later, they’d found all that Teresa wanted to keep. There wasn’t a lot of it, so it was all able to fit inside her school bag without much trouble. All going well, there would never be any reason for Teresa to have to return here.

As Thomas and Teresa left the house, the woman from CPS approached them.

“Hello Teresa,” she said. “You’re going to be coming with me, and we’ll get everything sorted as quickly as possible.”

“Will I still be able to see my friends?”

The woman tried to hide a frown. “We’ll have to see about that. There’s a chance that you’ll have to change schools, if your new home is too far away.”

“I figured _that_ much for myself. That’s not what I asked.”

The woman completely failed at hiding her frown this time, but only for a moment before understanding dawned. Then the frown disappeared entirely. “Of course you can still see them. I highly doubt that you’ll be sent so far away that that won’t be possible. Do you have their phone numbers?” Teresa nodded. The woman gave a gentle smile. “You should be fine, then.” She gestured towards the car that they’d come in. “Whenever you’re ready,” she said, and she walked off towards it.

Thomas and Teresa followed her at a much slower pace. When they reached the open car door, Thomas expected Teresa to just get straight in.

She didn’t. Instead, she turned to him and said, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Hey,” Thomas laughed. “What did we say about saying thank you?”

Teresa smiled. “You said that I didn’t need to do it. I remember. I also don’t care.” She pulled him in for a hug. “Thank you, Tom. And tell the others thanks too, okay? Good that?”

“Good that,” Thomas replied. They let go.

“I’ll call you. Promise.”

“Good. Minho’ll kill you if you don’t” He lightly shoved her towards the car. “Go on, now. Stop stalling.”

“You can’t _wait_ to be rid of me, huh?” she laughed, and shot him one last smile before getting into the car.

Just a few short minutes later, Teresa was being driven away.

He’d done it.

This time, he was absolutely certain. Teresa was being taken somewhere safe. Somewhere permanently safe. Somewhere where her mother wouldn’t be able to hurt her, and the killer wouldn’t be able to get her.

The first time around, she hadn’t even made it _this_ far.

But now? Teresa was going to get the chance to grow up, to live, to be whatever she wanted to be.

And Thomas had a feeling that she was going to be just fine.


	53. Chapter 53

When Thomas and his mother got home, Newt and Minho were sat at the table. Their quiet conversation fell silent when the door opened, and Newt was on his feet the moment Thomas stepped inside.

“Did it go okay? Are you alright?” He looked them over again. “Where’s Teresa?”

“We’re fine Newt,” said Thomas’ mother. “CPS have taken custody of Teresa. She’s going to be okay.”

“Her grandmother showed up,” said Thomas as he walked over to the table and sat in the chair next to Newt. “Her mother pretty much gave up when she saw her.”

Newt dropped back into his seat. “So it’s done then? She’s safe?”

Thomas nodded. “Yes, Newt. Teresa’s safe.”

“Miss Cooper,” said Minho, “are you bleeding?”

Newt whipped his head around to look.

Thomas’ mother gave a small chuckle and made her way to the sink. She grabbed a paper towel, held it under the tap to dampen it, and began to clean her forehead.

“You _are_ bleeding!” said Newt. “Mary, what happened?”

“Teresa’s mum swung a shovel at her,” said Thomas.

“She did _what?_ ” Minho’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Teresa and I were only just able to pull them apart enough for her to just get scratched.” Thomas shook his head, staring down at the table. “It could’ve been so much worse.”

“What the hell?” Newt said, disbelief clear in his voice.

“People don’t just _do_ that, right?” Minho sounded slightly hysterical. “They _can’t!_ ”

“Boys, it’s okay.” Thomas’ mother turned around to face them, a new, dry, paper towel pressed against the cut. “I’m perfectly fine. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But you very nearly _weren’t,_ ” snapped Thomas. “Don’t say that it’s fine because you could’ve _died,_ mum, and then what? What would I do then?”

Thomas’ mother pulled the paper towel away from her head and looked at it. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she put it down on the side. She crossed over to the table and crouched down next to Thomas’ chair.

“I’m right here, kiddo. You don’t need to worry about that, because I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” She pulled him into a hug.

Thomas wasn’t ashamed of how tightly he held onto her. This had all started with his mother. All of this was triggered by his mother’s death. Other motivations may have developed along the way, but his initial aim had been to stop that future from happening. If Teresa’s mother had been able to swing just a little further out with that shovel, his mother would be dead right now. Thomas didn’t need to actually experience that version of events to know that it would’ve broken him.

“You’re going to the police about it, right?” asked Minho. “I mean, she can’t get away with that!”

Thomas’ mother turned her head to talk to him, still not letting go of her son. “There were multiple witnesses, including the people from CPS. If they decide that the police need to be involved, then I’ll help in whatever way I can.”

“She _attacked_ you,” said Newt. “Last time I checked, you can just go to the police on your own! And you should! She could’ve killed you!”

“I know,” she said, “but I don’t want to cause any more trouble. I’m thinking of Teresa here. If I went to the police about this, then not only would it add extra complications to her case, but the police would be very likely to want to talk to her about it. And to you, Thomas, seeing as you were there. I’d like to spare you both from that if at all possible.” She sighed. “Like I said, obviously if CPS or your teacher report what she tried to do, then I’ll cooperate. But that’s as far as I’m willing to go. You understand, boys?”

They murmured their understanding, although it was clear that none of them agreed with her decision.

Thomas detached himself from his mother and made his way to his room, confident that his friends would be following closely behind. Once they were all inside, he closed the door.

“Tommy, are _you_ alright?”

“Yeah, Newt, I’m good.” Thomas sank down onto his bed. “She yelled at me a bit, but she didn’t try to hurt me.”

“What d’ya think’s gonna happen to Teresa now?” asked Minho.

Thomas shrugged and lay backwards so he was staring up at the ceiling. “They might put her in foster care, or maybe they’ll put her with family. Her grandmother showed up, so maybe she’ll end up living with her? I can’t say for sure.”

“But we’ll see her again, right?”

Newt sat on the bed next to Thomas. “Course we will,” he said. “You know what she’s like, if she’s told she can’t then she just won’t accept it. _And_ she‘s got our phone numbers, so she can call us whenever she wants.”

“Good that.” Minho smiled. “We couldn’t have _Tom_ here getting all sad because he’s separated from his girlfriend.”

Without looking, Thomas reached to the side, grabbed a pillow, and threw it at Minho’s head. If Newt’s laughter was anything to go by, he’d hit his target dead on.

“C’mon shank, you know I’m right!”

Thomas sat up and caught his pillow as Minho threw it back. “No, I don’t. Teresa isn’t my girlfriend. She’s my friend. Why are you so obsessed with this?”

Newt, who was now attempting to suppress his laughter, flung an arm around Thomas’ shoulder. “It’s only been a couple of weeks, mate. He’s barely even _begun._ ”

“Yay,” Thomas deadpanned.

A giggle escaped from Newt’s lips. “Just imagine what kinda hell he’ll put you through when you actually _do_ like someone.”

Thomas shot Minho a sideways glance, and said, “That’s assuming that he’ll ever find out about it.”

Newt retracted his arm and said, “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked over at Minho. “He can’t give you hell over your crush if he doesn’t know you have one.”

“Newt,” said Minho, “are you saying that _you_ like someone?”

Newt’s eyes widened slightly in alarm, but he shrugged. “I’m not saying anything.”

Minho sat on the floor. “I can’t believe I missed this! What kind of friend am I? C’mon, spill! Who is it? I’m guessing she’s in our class.”

Newt just mimed himself zipping his lips, and said nothing.

The rest of the morning was spent much like this. The three friends talked, Minho would occasionally - if you can call every five minutes or so _occasionally_ \- ask Newt who he had a crush on. Newt would respond to this by pretending that Minho wasn’t actually in the room, and instead talk directly to Thomas as if they were the only two there. Thomas was more than happy to play along. Watching Minho get so frustrated was endlessly entertaining.

Eventually, Minho’s dad came to pick him up.

“Hey,” said Thomas, just as Minho was about to leave. “You know you’re always welcome here, right? It can’t be fun being alone in the evenings all the time. You can come over whenever you want. I know my mum won’t mind.”

“Mine neither,” chimed in Newt. “You’re always welcome round mine, too.”

Minho beamed, and pulled them both into a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've finished all my exams !!!! my updates should go back to normal now, thank you for your patience : D


	54. Chapter 54

At the beginning of the day on Monday, Mr Janson had to tell the class something about Teresa’s continued absence.

“I’m sure you’ll all be pleased to know that we found out why Teresa wasn’t in school for a few days. Don’t worry, she’s absolutely fine. She’s just been going through a difficult time at home. It’s not certain yet as to whether she’ll be coming back or not.”

He didn’t give the class a chance to become restless, instead moving straight on with the morning’s lessons.

At breaktime, he called Thomas to the front of the room.

“Yes, sir?”

Mr Janson smiled down at him. “Come with me, Thomas. This conversation is probably best had away from the others.”

Thomas followed him out of the room and into the hallway. They stopped a few paces away from the classroom door, presumably so that anybody who needed to leave the room for whatever reason wouldn’t overhear them.

Mr Janson looked down at Thomas and chuckled. “You don’t have to look so worried, Thomas. You aren’t in any trouble. I just wanted to tell you that Teresa’s grandmother has been granted full custody of her. They’re in talks about where she’s going to go to school from now on, but there’s a good chance that she’ll be coming back here. It’s not guaranteed yet, but it’s likely. Also, her mother isn’t allowed to see her, and probably won’t be for a very long time.”

Thomas didn’t realise how tense he’d been about the situation until that moment. Part of him, a small part that he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, had still been worried that he hadn’t done enough. That Teresa would _still_ be in danger, despite everything. Hearing that she was definitely safe and alive was such a relief that for a second he was convinced his legs would give out. He managed to stay standing, though.

“Thank you, sir.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” said Mr Janson. “After all, you deserve to know what’s going on, given all the effort you put in to see it through.”

“It’s not just that, though.” Thomas couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Mr Janson as he spoke, so he stared at the wall instead. “What you said to me on Saturday? About my bravery and stuff? It really meant a lot. So, thank you.”

“Did it?” He smiled. “Well, you should know that it was the absolute truth. I _was_ going to say that you deserved to be rewarded for your actions, but then I thought that offering you a reward for just trying to stop somebody from getting hurt might not actually be such a great thing to say, so I ended up just saying what I did instead.” He let out an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll bet seeing Teresa smile was your reward, wasn’t it?”

Thomas nodded. Seeing Teresa safe and happy was exactly what he’d wanted.

Mr Janson seemed pleased. “Your smile was mine.” He checked his watch. “Out of interest,” he said, “where were you hiding her? Your house?”

“No,” said Thomas. It was easier to actually look at him when talking about this, so he did. “If I’d hid her at mine then my mum would’ve called you a lot earlier. There isn’t enough room to hide a person there. But Newt knew about this abandoned bus at the end of the field at Scorch. Nobody ever uses it, so we hid her there.”

Mr Janson raised an eyebrow. “Really? Huh.” He looked like he was thinking for a second, then said, “I guess if you wanted to kidnap someone, that’d be a perfect place to take them.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Thomas laughed nervously, although he hoped the nervousness wasn’t too obvious.

Mr Janson had _no_ idea how right he was.

Teresa was safe now, but Brenda Rosier wasn’t.

The killer had been moving his equipment into the bus when they abandoned it. The bus was on land belonging to Scorch Primary School, which was the school that Brenda went to.

The killings weren’t random. The targets had been pre-selected. And there was no doubt in Thomas’ mind that the killer wouldn’t be too deterred by one failure. He’d still try and go after Brenda. They probably didn’t have long.

Becoming friends with Teresa hadn’t been _easy,_ per se, but the process had been simple to figure out because they were in the same class, at the same school. There’d been plenty of chances to talk to her. Or, at least, chasing her down when she tried to leave school quickly had been relatively simple because all he’d had to do was follow her.

It was going to be a lot harder with Brenda. Her school was literally on the other side of town. They’d never crossed paths.

No, hang on.

Yes they had.

The other day, when he’d stayed at the bus too long and had had to run to school, he’d crashed into a girl from Scorch. He hadn’t paid all that much attention to her. He’d made sure that she was okay, and then been on his way. He hadn’t recognised her at the time.

He did now.

Of course, it was just his luck that of all the kids around, _she_ was the one he’d had the misfortune of running into. If he wanted to try and become her friend, which he did, then the fact that their first meeting had gone like that probably wouldn’t help him.

Then again, she _had_ seemed to find his predicament entertaining. Maybe he could work with it...

 

He kept thinking about it for the rest of the day.

If he couldn’t figure out what to do, fast, then Brenda would probably still die. He’d let her down last time because he’d been too stuck in his own head after Teresa to focus. He couldn’t do that to her again.

Over dinner, he decided to just bite the bullet and ask for advice.

“Hey, mum, I’ve got a question.”

“What is it, kiddo?”

“How do you become friends with somebody you don’t know?”

“There are lots of different ways you can become friends with someone.” She looked at him with a smile. “How old are you again?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You _know_ how old I am, it was my birthday last week.”

“Well, for kids your age, it’s probably easiest to just go up to them and ask to be friends.”

Thomas slumped in his chair. “I wish it were that simple.”

“Who are you thinking about befriending?”

“Oh, just someone I’ve seen around town.”

“Is it a girl?”

“Yeah. Does that make a difference?”

She chuckled. “For you? I don’t think so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you don’t strike me as being particularly interested in finding a girlfriend right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not.”

“So, for you, the fact that this person you want to make friends with is a girl doesn’t make a difference. It’s not like you’re desperate to impress her or anything.”

Thomas shrugged. “I guess not.”

“So just asking her to be your friend should be enough.” She smiled reassuringly. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Unconvinced, Thomas decided to drop the subject for now.


	55. Chapter 55

If Thomas wanted to protect Brenda, then he needed to become her friend. If he wanted to be her friend, then he needed to talk to her. If he wanted to talk to her, then he needed to find a good opportunity to actually be able to do that. And in order to do so, he needed to know her daily routine.

He also needed to know this so that he’d be able to identify when she’d be in the most danger. Teresa had spent her evenings alone in the park. Originally, that’s when she was snatched. Then she was alone and hurt in the shed, and was taken from there.

Thomas supposed there was a pretty good chance that there were large chunks of time that Brenda spent alone, for whatever reason. Somehow, Thomas needed to make sure that she wasn’t alone during those times.

But to do that he needed to know what those times were.

At the end of the school day, he told Newt and Minho to go on to the children’s centre without him. “I’ve got some errands to run, but I’ll join you there as soon as I can.”

Newt frowned, but Minho dragged him from the classroom before he could argue.

Thomas needed to get Newt back in the loop, sooner rather than later. But if Newt knew  _ now _ what was going on, then he’d probably demand to go along with Thomas. And neither of them were willing to leave Minho alone, so he’d have to come along too. And Thomas didn’t actually want to get noticed today.

He ran across town, managing to reach Scorch just 10 minutes after their school day ended. He hid himself behind a tree. It seemed that luck was on his side. He hadn’t missed her, and he saw her leaving just a few minutes later.

She walked out of the school building on her own.

Thomas followed. He left a large distance between them, so hopefully she wouldn’t spot him. He needed to know her daily routine, but didn’t want to freak her out. That would guarantee that they couldn’t be friends.

This wasn’t something at which he could afford to fail.

Eventually, she stopped at a covered picnic area next to the river. Thomas had actually come to this place before. Here, the river was was more of a stream and could be easily jumped over. And across the river was Thomas’ friendship group’s hideout.

They’d first started using it at the beginning of that school year. Siggy had come into school one day, saying that the old Scouts’ clubhouse by the river had been left unlocked, and nobody was using it. The boys had gone and investigated it further, and immediately decided that it was their new group hangout spot. They hadn’t wanted anyone else to know about it, so they agreed not to go there if it had snowed, so people couldn’t follow their footsteps.

Newt had had to remind him about that.

In the first timeline, the group never went back. It wouldn’t have been the same without Minho there.

Brenda inspected the benches for a minute or so, probably looking for the driest one, before sitting down and pulling a book out of her bag.

Thomas didn’t have to wait too long before Jorge arrived.

When Brenda looked up and noticed him, she broke into a huge smile. She placed the book on the top of her bag and practically launched herself at him. She hugged him tightly, before letting go and shoving her bag to the side to make more room on the bench. The moment Jorge sat down, she grabbed her book back up and launched into what Thomas could only guess was an enthusiastic and detailed description of its contents. Jorge seemed to be genuinely interested in what she was saying, and looked to be encouraging her whenever she showed any sign of slowing down or stopping.

They were obviously close. If fact, it appeared that Jorge was closer with Brenda than he’d ever been with Thomas, or Teresa, or any of the other kids he’d talked to. Brenda talked to him as if she’d known him her whole life.

No wonder the real killer had framed him.

After a little while, Brenda looked at her wrist, most likely at a watch, and packed her book away. She waved goodbye to Jorge, and they walked off in different directions.

Thomas followed her all the way to the high street. She went into a building. Most of the shops were starting to close at around this time, so Thomas wasn’t sure why she was going in one. Was she meeting someone? Thomas got closer so he could get a better look.

It turned out that the building Brenda had gone into wasn’t a shop at all. It was a tutoring centre. She was going to extra classes outside of school. Thomas quickly looked over the timings posted on the board by the door. Based on the time that she’d gone in, her class was probably the one ending at half six.

That gave him time. Besides, he needed to go and meet the other two at the Children’s Centre.

  
  


“You took your time,” said Minho when Thomas walked in.

Newt smiled at Thomas. “We were starting to wonder if you were ever gonna show up.”

“You mean  _ you  _ were.” Minho dragged another chair over to their table. “You’ll be pleased to know that I didn’t doubt you for a second.”

“I didn’t doubt you, Tommy!” Newt rushed to say. “It’s just...” he trailed off.

Thomas could see the traces of worry in his friend’s eyes, despite Newt’s clear attempt to act casual. Thomas understood where his concern was coming from, even if it was misplaced. There was a potential serial killer in town somewhere. And, unlike Thomas, Newt didn’t have a full list of potential victims. Of course he’d be worried.

“It’s okay, Newt,” said Thomas. He placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance as he sat down.

“It’s okay for  _ you, _ because  _ you  _ didn’t have to hear his whining.” Minho sighed. “Seriously! From the moment we left school all he talked about was ‘Tommy this’ and ‘Tommy that.’ And he  _ still  _ won’t tell me who he has a crush on!”

Thomas tilted his head towards Minho. “You  _ did  _ physically drag him out of the classroom. I know that I’d be trying my hardest to be as annoying as possible if you’d done that to me.”

Newt huffed. “I wasn’t  _ trying  _ to be annoying, you know.”

“Nah, that’s just what you’re like normally,” said Minho.

Newt threw his game counter at him.

Minho grinned and pointed at Newt. “Aha! I’ll take that as a forfeit! I win!”

Newt shrugged. “We’d have to start again for Tommy to be able to join in, anyway.”

“But you admit that I won?”

Newt rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “If it would make you happy.”

“It would make me  _ very  _ happy.”

“Then fine, you won.”

Minho threw arms in the air in celebration.

Newt shared a glance with Thomas, who smiled back.

Minho could be ridiculous sometimes, but that was precisely why they loved him. They wouldn’t change him for the world.

“Hey, Thomas?”

“Yeah Minho?”

“Do  _ you  _ know who Newt likes?”

Newt grabbed the game pieces a little harder than was strictly necessary and returned them to the beginning, and added a third so that Thomas could play. “Are you ever gonna let this go?”

“Nope.” He turned back to Thomas. “So, do you?”

Thomas shook his head. “Sorry, no. And unless Newt decides to tell me about it on his own, I don’t want to know.”

“Really?” Minho’s eyes had widened at what Thomas had said, and a small frown appeared on his face. “I thought that, out of everyone, you’d know who it is.”

“Yeah, well, unlike  _ someone _ I could mention, Tommy actually respects other people’s privacy.” Newt looked pointedly at the dice. “Are we playing, or what?”

“I’ll get it out of you someday.” Minho picked the dice up. “One way or another, I  _ will  _ get my answer.”

“I’m sure you will,” Newt sighed.


	56. Chapter 56

Thomas and Newt walked Minho home. Once they’d seen him safely inside, Thomas told Newt that he wasn’t actually going home yet, as he still had stuff he needed to do.

Newt’s eyes narrowed. “What stuff? Will it mean that you’re gonna be out late?”

Thomas shrugged. “It might, but I doubt it.”

Newt pulled Thomas away from the front of Minho’s house. Thomas figured it was so if Minho looked out of a window, he wouldn’t see that they were still there, talking. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Thomas shook his head. “It’ll probably be better with just one person. Thanks for offering, though.”

“What did we say about ‘thanks’?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, but what else was I supposed to say?”

“You could tell me what you’re doing that requires you to be alone?”

Thomas checked his watch. “Newt, I’d honestly love to, but I’m gonna be late if I don’t go right now.” He shot him a quick smile. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay? Don’t let me forget!”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran back towards the high street.

  
  


Thomas’ prediction had been correct. He reached the high street at half six, and saw a small stream of kids leaving the building. Brenda was one of the last out, and she walked in the opposite direction to most of the others.

It was getting dark, and Brenda was walking alone through the centre of town. If somebody wanted to kidnap her, this would be the perfect time to do it.

Last time around, she’d disappeared on the Wednesday. That was tomorrow. But that was after the killer had taken Teresa a day after he’d evidently originally planned. The first time around, when Teresa had been taken on the Tuesday before, the 1st, Brenda hadn’t disappeared until later. Thomas couldn’t remember exactly when, but it was later.

He had no way of predicting what changes to his plan the killer would make, now that he hadn’t been able to get to Teresa at all.

For all Thomas knew, he might be thinking about kidnapping Brenda  _ tonight. _

He tried to shake that thought off, but he couldn’t. It was possible. And who the fuck knew what was likely anymore? Too much had changed for anything to be predictable.

She stopped at the bus stop. Okay, that was a  _ lot  _ better than her walking all the way home on her own. Thomas was pretty sure that she’d be okay once she was on that bus. That way, there’d be at least one other person there at all times (the driver) and then, at the other end, she’d be in a residential area. If somebody tried to grab her there, well, Brenda struck Thomas as the type of kid who wasn’t afraid to scream. And it wasn’t  _ that  _ late, so she’d definitely be heard.

But until she got on that bus, he was going to worry. He accepted this and stood himself a fair distance away so he would watch.

“Hey, Thomas!”

Startled, he turned at the sound of someone calling his name.

“Mum?”

“What’cha doing out here?” She shook her head. “Never mind, doesn’t matter, get over here. I need to borrow your muscles.”

Thomas crossed the road and got a better look at her. She was carrying three shopping bags, each one practically overflowing with food. He reached out and grabbed the bag she was holding out to him, and nearly fell flat on his face. It was heavy!

“Why did you buy so much?” He said, following her down the street.

“The supermarket reduces their prices on so much in the evenings! I managed to hit that sweet spot, when it’s late enough that a lot has been put on offer, and early enough that most of it’s still there.”

Thomas glanced over to where Brenda was still sitting at the bus stop. “So you just failed at impulse control?”

“Oi! This is all stuff we’d need eventually, anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean much if we can’t actually carry it home.”

She huffed a small amount a laughter. “Watch it, you.”

Thomas caught up to walk alongside her, and grinned. “I’m guessing this is mostly cans?”

“You’d be right.”

“And I’m guessing that you bought all that they had?”

“Right again.”

He tutted. “That  _ explains  _ it. No wonder my arms are being pulled from their sockets.”

She was about to say something in response, probably to tell him to stop being cheeky, when somebody honked their car horn. It made them both jump, and Thomas turned to see who’d done it.

A car had slowed down to a stop beside them and the driver’s seat window slid open to reveal Mr Janson. He leaned his head out and smiled.

“You look like you’re struggling. Need a lift?”

Thomas had agreed before his mother could even  _ think _ about politely declining. She and the three shopping bags ended up in the backseat, while Thomas got to ride in the front. Just before Mr Janson pulled away, a bus stopped by the bus stop, and Brenda got on it. She was safe for the night, and Thomas could relax.

The first few minutes of the journey took place in near silence, the only sounds being that of the car and of Mr Janson occasionally tapping his forefinger on the steering wheel. Unlike it did with his friends, with Newt, this silence felt heavy, awkward, uncomfortable. Thomas had to break it.

“So, uh, sir, um...” he trailed off.

“Yes? What is it?”

“...Are you married?”

Shitting goddamn what the holy fucking hell kind of question was that?

Thomas physically shrank back into his seat. He didn’t have a good reason, or any reason at all, to be asking about that.

Mr Janson, to his credit, took it in his stride. He laughed good-naturedly and said, “No, Thomas, I’m not.” He shrugged. “I nearly was at one point, but it ended up not working out.”

“Oh,” Thomas sat up properly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“Even so, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t what I was expecting you to say. But it’s quite alright, Thomas.”

Thomas looked round at his mother. He’d have normally expected her to say something in a discussion like this. Why hadn’t she?

It was because she’d fallen asleep.

Which presented Thomas with an opportunity.

“Can I ask you for some advice?”

Mr Janson glanced over quickly to indicate he was listening, before looking back at the road. “Sure you can. What’s up?”

“What’s a good way to approach and befriend a girl that you don’t know?”

“Hmmm.” Mr Janson tapped his forefinger on the steering wheel as he thought. “That’s an interesting question. My technique for that would probably be to find a way to get her to let her guard down.”

“Huh?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, “the best way to do that is to just be yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“You should start talking to her about something that you’re actually interested in. Be honest. That way, she’ll see how genuine you’re being, and it’ll make her drop her guard. It might not guarantee that you’ll become best friends, but it’ll let you start a conversation at least.”

“Huh. That’s pretty smart.”

Mr Janson laughed. “Not at all. I’ve just been around a while. Talking to new people, and putting them at ease, is a skill that I’ve pretty much perfected.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“I hope it works out for you.”

Thomas looked out of the window, watching the town go by. The silence didn’t feel quite so bad now, but Thomas still didn’t like it.

His gaze fell on the glove compartment in front of him. There was a corner of clear plastic sticking out, just  _ begging  _ to be grabbed and pulled.

So Thomas did.

The glove compartment burst open.

Lollipops spilled everywhere.

“So,” said Mr Janson, tapping a finger on the wheel and staring straight ahead, “it seems that you’ve discovered my secret.”

“I’m really so-”

“Quick! Hide the evidence!” Mr Janson reached over and grabbed a lollipop, unwrapped it deftly with one hand, and shoved it into his mouth. He laughed. “You don’t need to apologise, it’s fine. I quit smoking a few years ago. I pretty much replaced cigarettes with these. They’re the only thing that’ll stop the cravings.” He gestured towards the lollipop that Thomas had ended up clutching. “Feel free to have one. As you can see, I’ve got more than enough.”

Thomas unwrapped the lollipop. “Does it work? Getting rid of the cravings, I mean.”

Mr Janson shrugged. “Mostly. They work enough, at least. I haven’t fallen off the wagon.”

“That’s good. And I really am sorry about the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” came Thomas’ mother’s voice from the backseat. She must have woken up at some point. “If there are lollipops going, can I have one?”

“Go ahead,” said Mr Janson as Thomas passed one back.

Just a few minutes later, he dropped them off home. Thomas offered to pick up and put back all the dropped lollipops, but Mr Janson insisted that he let him take care of it instead. He said goodnight and drove off.

Thomas resumed his complaining as they carried the shopping bags inside. He loved his mother, and made sure that she knew that, but  _ fuck _ those bags were heavy.

If he was going to act like a bratty kid over anything, surely he was allowed to have it be this.


	57. Chapter 57

From the moment Thomas got to school, he could tell that Newt wanted to talk to him. In private. Thomas, however, did not. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Newt, because he did. He always did. And he knew that he needed to. He owed Newt an explanation for the night before, and he'd promised that he’d explain.

It was just that he had no idea how to go about it.

He made sure to get himself trapped in a conversation with the rest of the group at break. It worked perfectly. Newt was simply too polite to interrupt them. In fact, he ended up going in the complete opposite direction. While everybody else contributed to the conversation at some point, Newt just sat in silence.

Nobody else seemed to notice that Newt wasn’t participating, apart from Thomas. He couldn’t not. Newt’s silence was coupled with a glare that told Thomas that he wasn’t happy with Thomas’ procrastination tactics.

Break only lasted for 20 minutes, and they couldn’t talk during class, but Thomas didn’t expect his luck to last through lunchtime.

Or Newt’s patience, and willingness to put up with Thomas’ shit.

At the beginning of lunch, Thomas sat down next to Minho and was just about to pull his food out of his bag when he felt a firm grip on his arm.

“Staircase. Now.”

Thomas didn’t argue as he let himself be led out.

Newt let go when he reached the top step and sat down. Thomas followed. He stayed silent, figuring that it would be a good idea to let Newt start the conversation.

It took a couple of minutes of Newt sitting there, staring into the distance, before he finally spoke.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

“Newt, I-”

“We need to be on the same page, here. We agreed. Teresa’s safe now, but you’ve told me that she’s not the only one in danger. And yet, you’re still going off on your own!” Newt balled his hands into fists. “How am I supposed to help you if you keep doing that?”

“Yesterday I was trying to figure out how to help the other girl in danger.”

“What about Minho? Is _he_ still in danger?”

“I don’t know.”

Newt gave a short, cold laugh. “Really? You don’t know?”

“I told you, he was only ever targeted to cover up the fact that the killer knew his victims, because he was only targeting girls! Now that Teresa’s definitely safe, and hopefully this other girl will be too, and we’re making sure that he’s alone for as little time as possible, he should be fine!” Thomas wanted to put his hand on Newt’s shoulder, but didn’t want to risk making Newt angrier, so kept it still. “Minho’s my friend, okay? I don’t want to lose him either.”

Newt stared at Thomas for a few seconds, eyes still blazing. Then, it drained away. He put his head into his hands. “Sorry.”

Relief flooding him, Thomas felt himself relax. If there was _one thing_ he hated, it was the idea of Newt being upset with him. “You don’t need to apologise. I was out of line.”

“No, I should’ve trusted you.”

He felt the corners of his mouth creep upwards. “No, _I_ should’ve trusted _you._ I should’ve told you all this already.”

Newt sat back upright and looked directly at him. “S’okay, Tommy. I get it. I’m just worried, you know? About you _and_ Minho.”

“Yeah, I know.” Thomas felt safe to put his hand on his friend’s shoulder now, so he did, hoping it would come across as he reassuring gesture it was supposed to be. “But I promise that I’m fine. I’m not doing anything stupid. _And_ I’m not a girl, and I doubt there’s anything about me that could make me be mistaken for one, so the killer wouldn’t be interested in me anyway.”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “You? Not doing anything stupid?”

Thomas pushed him away gently with the hand that he’d just placed on his shoulder. “Rude.”

“Honest,” Newt shot back.

Thomas shook his head and laughed softly to himself.

“So,” said Newt. “What were you doing yesterday that meant you had to be alone?”

“I was trying to figure out the schedule of the other potential victim.”

“By which you mean...”

Thomas gave an embarrassed laugh. “I was following her around town.”

Newt’s mouth dropped open for a moment, before he recovered and said, “Were you _stalking_ her?”

“You see, this is _why_ I didn’t tell you about it.”

“Because you were!”

“I didn’t exactly have much of a choice. I needed to know when she’d be most vulnerable.”

Newt smirked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounded like _you_ were the one planning to kidnap her.”

Thomas shoved him with his shoulder. “Slim it.”

Newt held his hands up in mock-surrender. “Okay, so tell me about her. What did you learn?”

“Her name’s Brenda and she goes to Scorch, across town. After school she goes to the covered picnic area near the hideout. Yesterday she met Jorge there and...” Thomas paused. He knew the answer, but it didn’t hurt to check. “You know Jorge, right?”

Newt nodded. “That guy who spends his evenings talking to kids who are out on their own? And whose house you threw a rock at on your birthday?”

“Yeah, that’s right. So Brenda chatted to Jorge for a bit. She seemed really happy to see him. Then she went to the one of the evening classes on the high street. That’s when I came and joined you guys. After that she gets the bus home.”

“And you think this is her routine every day?”

Thomas shrugged. “I can’t be completely sure, but those classes run every day so it’s possible.”

Newt tapped his fingers against his mouth as he thought. “It sounds like she’s alone a lot. There’s plenty of opportunity there for someone to do something to her. You said that the killer knows his victims, right?” Thomas nodded. “I see.” Newt slipped back into silence for a few seconds, then said, “That Jorge guy. I’ve always been kinda wary of him. I’ve seen him talking to Teresa at the park a bunch of times, and-”

_“Newt!”_

Newt startled and looked over at Thomas. He shifted back slightly. “Sorry!” He looked away, laughing nervously. “I guess I was sorta jumping to conclusions there, huh?”

Thomas hadn’t meant to snap. Newt’s logic was sound. Normally, an adult choosing to spend their time with kids like Jorge did meant Bad Things. But Jorge wasn’t like that. He’d probably benefit from setting up a properly regulated Youth Group or something, because he genuinely was just trying to keep these kids company. Thomas should know, he’d been one of them.

The first time around, Newt’s testimony that Jorge had talked to Teresa multiple times before her death had been used to convict him. Thomas didn’t blame his friend for that. He never had. After all, it was a perfectly reasonable conclusion to come to. Hell, if Thomas hadn’t known Jorge personally then he would’ve thought the same thing.

“You’re half right, actually. And don’t you _dare_ start biting your nails.”

Newt’s hand froze halfway to his mouth. He glanced at it and slowly put it down. “How am I half right?”

“Well, if something had happened to Teresa, wouldn’t you say that there’s a good chance that he’d be suspected? And Brenda, seeing as he’s friends with her too.”

Newt’s eyes lit up in realisation. “So _that’s_ why you threw the rock at his house! It was in case something went wrong. Even if something _had_ happened to Teresa, the cops would’ve known that it couldn’t possibly have been him, because they’d have been with him the whole time.”

“You’ve got it!”

Newt grinned. “So this Jorge guy is harmless?”

“Completely. But if anyone gets hurt then _he’s_ gonna get the blame for it. I can’t let that happen.”

“I hear ya, Tommy.” Newt put his hands out behind him and leant back onto them. “So there’s Teresa, Minho, and this Brenda girl. Is anyone else at risk?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, that’s it. Well, that’s it for now. I don’t know if the killer will just give up if he can’t get to them or not, but we don’t need to worry about that yet.”

Newt sighed. It seemed to be in equal parts relief and exasperation. “Do you know who the killer is? Because that information could be really useful right about now.”

“I don’t, sorry.” Thomas looked up at the ceiling. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it. I was trying to get Teresa and Minho out of harm’s way just in general, rather than away from a specific person.” He looked back at Newt with a weak smile. “It’s kinda hard to catch a killer when they haven’t actually killed anyone.”

“I get what you mean. But,” Newt said, sitting forwards again, “it’s not like we can’t try.”

“What do you mean?”

Newt hummed in thought. Then, he said, “Have I ever told you what my dad does for a living?”

If he had, Thomas couldn’t remember. “I don’t think so, no. Why?”

“He’s a lawyer.” Newt’s gaze drifted, so he was looking down the stairs rather than at Thomas. “Sonya wants to be a lawyer too. You know, make sure that bad guys get locked up forever, keeping everybody else safe.” Newt sighed. “If it didn’t require so much public speaking, I’d want to do that as well. But I still want to help. I want to make the world a better place.”

“Your point?”

Newt laughed. “Now who’s being rude?” He turned to face Thomas. “I think we should investigate this killer ourselves. Or at least look around for clues or something, if it’s not safe enough to get too close. It’ll be like we’re playing at being detectives. There isn’t much to go on, but surely we can figure it out together!” He grinned. “I’d like the chance to be a hero, too.”

Seeing Newt smile made Thomas lose all control of his face. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“Good that.”


	58. Chapter 58

Newt grabbed Sonya before she could leave the classroom.

It was Wednesday, so she had choir club after school. Running club was still cancelled, of course, although this time it was ice that was being cited as the reason, rather than snow.

“Yes?”

“You’ll have to go home by yourself today.”

She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

Newt shrugged. “I’m not gonna be here.”

“What are you talking about? Where  _ are  _ you gonna be?”

Most of the class had gone by this point, leaving just the twins, Thomas, Minho, and Harriet in the classroom.

Minho leaned over so he could speak quietly into Thomas’ ear. “What’s going on?”

“We wanna go check something out, but that means we can’t wait for Sonya.”

“Oh. Should I go home then?”

“No!” Thomas shook his head firmly. “You’re coming with us.”

He refocused on the siblings’ discussion.

Only to find that Sonya was looking at him.

“Why did I even bother asking?” She shifted her gaze back to her brother. “Of  _ course  _ you’re going somewhere with him.” Harriet, who was standing just behind her, rolled her eyes.

Newt crossed his arms. “What’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

Sonya raised an eyebrow. “Do you  _ really  _ want me to answer that? Here? Out loud? Because I’m fully prepared to.”

Newt uncrossed his arms and shook his head frantically. “Please don’t do that!”

Thomas couldn’t see Newt’s face, but both girls were trying to suppress giggles, so he imagined that it looked at least somewhat panicked. Although why it was, he had no idea.

“I think I should, don’t you, Harriet?” Sonya turned to her friend, who nodded her agreement with a smirk on her face.

“I’ll tell mum that you were the one who put glitter in dad’s shoes the other day.”

Sonya’s eyes widened and the smile dropped off her face. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m fully prepared to,” said Newt, echoing his sister’s previous statement, his voice full of obviously put-upon innocence.

“Fine,” said Sonya. “Go have fun with your boy. What’s mum gonna say when she finds out you made me walk home alone again? Last week was fine because it was just once, but she  _ specifically said- _ ”

“Walk home with Ximena. She lives close enough to us.”

“I barely know Ximena!”

“Well,” Newt shrugged, “it’ll be a good chance for you to try and make a new friend.”

Sonya crossed her arms. “What if I refuse?”

Newt picked up his bag. “Then I’ll tell  _ dad  _ that you were the one who put glitter in his shoes.”

Sonya narrowed her eyes, grumbled something at her brother, grabbed Harriet’s wrist, and left the classroom.

Newt turned and walked over to join Thomas and Minho, a small smile on his face.

“All good?” asked Minho.

“Did she really put glitter in your dad’s shoes?” asked Thomas.

Newt laughed. “Yes and yes.”

“But why though? What was she hoping to achieve?”

Newt threw his hands into the air. “I don’t know! I’ve asked her why she did it, but I don’t think  _ she  _ even knows. She just saw that we had glitter, had an idea, and went for it.”

Minho grinned. “She gave you perfect ammunition with that one.”

Newt grinned back. “That she did, Minho. That she most definitely did.”

  
  


The bus at the bottom of Scorch Primary’s field looked, at a glance, exactly the same as how they’d left it. But it didn’t take long for them to notice that something was different.

“Look,” said Newt, pointing to the ground. “Someone’s been here recently.”

There hadn’t been any new snow for a few days now, but the tracks leading to and away from the bus looked new. Whoever it had been must’ve been putting their feet down really hard, either to avoid slipping over or because they were angry.

If they belonged to the killer, which was likely, then it was probably a mixture of both.

Thomas leaned in to look a little closer. “Huh, that’s weird. Newt, is it just me, or are the footprints clear?”

Newt crouched down to get a better look. “What d’ya mean?”

“Shoes and boots have grips and stuff on the sole, right? Which means they leave some sort of pattern in footprints.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Newt stood. “So why aren’t there any marks in these? They’re too big to be an animal’s, and they lead right to the door.”

“What do you think?”

Newt shrugged. “Maybe he wrapped his boots in something? That way his footprints wouldn’t be easily identifiable.”

Thomas straightened up. “That makes a lot of sense.”

Newt glanced back down at the footprints. “He’s being careful. D’ya reckon he knows we’re onto him?”

Thomas turned towards the bus. “Let’s find out,” he said, and strode towards it.

From the moment he stepped inside it was obvious that someone else had been here. If the gasps coming from the boys behind him were any indication, they also noticed what was different immediately.

“Yes, Newt. I’d say that him knowing we’re onto him is definitely possible.”

The bag that had tipped them off to the fact that the killer was using the bus as a base was gone. Along with several of the boxes that they hadn’t thought twice about, thinking that they’d belonged to the school.

Clearly the killer had been using this bus for a while.

But not anymore. All of his things were gone. Thomas knew better than to expect any evidence to have been left behind.

Thomas didn’t care  _ how  _ the killer had found out that they’d been there. To be fair, they’d been in a hurry when they’d left, and so probably hadn’t cleared everything away. He supposed that the killer had found out from that. 

If anything, this should be counted as an overall win. The killer didn’t have a base anymore, or if he  _ did, _ it wouldn’t be anywhere near as close to Brenda as the bus was. Her death just became a lot less likely. At the very least, she’d been bought some time.

Unfortunately, it meant that they’d just lost the only concrete lead they had towards the killer’s identity.

But Brenda was less likely to die.

So. Net gain.

Thomas caught Newt’s eye, and could tell that he was thinking the exact same thing. He was glad they were on the same page.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind them caused them both to spin around.

Minho was still standing in the doorway, looking confused and impatient. “Listen, shanks. I’ve followed you out here, and I haven’t questioned it, but I’ve gotta draw the line somewhere, and this is it. What the shuck are you two talking about?”


	59. Chapter 59

Thomas looked towards Newt.

Last time they’d discussed how much they were going to tell Minho, they’d agreed to say only that they wanted to protect Teresa from her mother. They hadn’t wanted to accidentally let him know that he was in danger. His reaction would’ve been impossible to predict, but he would’ve likely been upset. As would anyone.

Bringing him along today had been a no-brainer. They hardly wanted to let him out of their sight.

But they hadn’t considered that he’d want an explanation.

It was silly of them, really. Thomas realised that now.

Newt tore his eyes away from Minho and met Thomas’ gaze. Effortlessly deciphering Thomas’ questioning look, he shrugged and gave a small nod.

_Your call._

Thomas turned back to face his other friend.

Minho had leant himself back against the closed door, his arms folded. He looked like he was mere moments away from tapping his foot in a show of impatience. “Well?” he said.

If they were going to keep dragging Minho around with them, then surely it would make sense for them to just tell him what was going on? Telling him that _he_ was a potential target still didn’t sit right with Thomas. The last thing he wanted was to make his friend upset or panic for what could turn out to be no good reason. But surely telling him the rest could only be helpful, going forwards.

“We think that there’s a potential serial killer in our town.”

Minho’s eyes widened, but he didn’t respond.

A few seconds passed before Newt finally broke the silence. “Wow, Tommy,” he said. “That was a blunt.”

“Go on then, how else should I have put it?”

Newt shrugged, a small smile on his face. “I dunno, but definitely not like that.”

“Are you two shucking with me right now?”

“No, Minho,” said Newt. “We aren’t.” He glanced over to Thomas. “I kinda wish we were, but Tommy’s convinced, and I believe him.”

“So this is all Thomas’ idea?”

“Way to throw me under the bus, Newt,” muttered Thomas.

Newt chuckled and gestured for Thomas to explain further.

“It’s difficult to explain, but I’m completely sure that there is.”

Minho stood up away from the door. “What’s made you think this? Why?”

Thomas gestured to the significantly emptier-than-before bus. “I think the killer was using this bus as a base.”

“That is not an answer.”

Thomas tried to conceal a sigh. “I can’t explain. I’m sorry, okay, but I can’t.”

“How come?”

“Because I have no idea _how._ But I swear I’m not making it up. This is way too serious for that.”

Minho looked him over, his eyes filled with suspicion and disbelief. “Is this linked to all that klunk with Teresa?”

“Yes, it is,” said Thomas. “I found out that she was gonna be targeted by a serial killer, and I didn’t wanna let that happen. Saving her from her mum was a happy accident. She’d be dead right now, otherwise.”

“And you’re for real?”

Thomas nodded. “It probably just sounds like I’m playing detective or something, but this is real.”

Minho turned to Newt. “You seriously believe this shank?”

“I do,” said Newt, conviction clear in his voice. Then he shrugged. “But that doesn’t really matter. However you look at it, there’s a chance that he’s right. And even if he isn’t, all we’re doing is making sure that people aren’t alone. What harm can that be?”

“Yeah, and coming back to a place that you think a serial killer is operating out of is harmless, is it?”

Thomas shrugged. “We were hoping to find clues. But if he’s abandoned his base then he’s floundering, so there’s that.”

Minho looked between the two of them, apparently lost for words. Eventually, he put his head in his hands and said, “You shanks are nuts. You do know that, right?”

Thomas let out a small bubble of laughter. Minho sounded like he was accepting what they were saying. “Yeah, Min, we know.”

“Honestly, since when have _I_ had to be the voice of reason? _Me?_ ”

Thomas grinned. “Actually, I think Newt still holds that title.”

Minho dropped his hands down to his sides and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Surely the first rule of dealing with a serial killer is _not_ going somewhere that you know they’ll be?”

“To be fair to us,” said Newt, “Teresa did say that he came really late at night. It’s barely evening right now. And look,” he gestured around them, “he’s gone anyway.”

“You didn’t know that!” Minho muttered something else to himself and shook his head, still looking up. Then he froze. He slowly lowered his head and looked directly at Thomas.

“You said that your tactic to stop people being killed by this serial killer is to make sure that they don’t spend much time alone.”

Thomas felt his stomach drop. He tried to force a smile, but knew that it wasn’t working very well. “Technically, Newt said that.”

“But it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

Helpless, Thomas nodded.

“And you’re _sure_ that Teresa would be dead if you hadn’t intervened?”

Thomas nodded again. He glanced over to Newt for help, but he was looking at Minho, so didn’t see.

“Is it safe to assume that you know who the other victims would be?”

Again, Thomas nodded.

Minho slid down the bus door until he was sitting on the floor. “I get why you didn’t tell me, then. I wouldn’t have.”

He’d figured it out.

“That wasn’t the only reason we included you, you know,” said Newt. He stepped between Thomas and Minho and crouched down so that he was eye level with him. “So don’t you _dare_ go about getting it into that shuck head of yours that it was.” Newt jabbed a finger into Minho’s shoulder. “We didn’t _have_ to tell you about Teresa. We could’ve just walked you home every day and been done with it. We _chose_ to tell you about Teresa, and we _choose_ to spend our evenings with you. Because you’re our friend, and we love you, and we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Minho cracked a small grin. “What about Alby and Siggy?”

“Too many cooks spoil the broth,” replied Newt.

Minho chuckled. “Was that a Siggy-ism?”

Thomas could _feel_ Newt rolling his eyes. “ _That_ was a saying that lots of people use. Siggy doesn’t own it.” He held out his hand to Minho. He grabbed it, and they pulled each other to their feet.

“So,” said Minho, looking between Newt and Thomas, “what’s the plan?”

“The other person in danger is a girl called Brenda, who goes to Scorch. She goes to extra classes on the high street after school, and gets out at half six.”

Minho raised his eyebrows. “And you know this how?”

Newt turned towards Thomas, a smirk on his face. “Yeah, Tommy, how _do_ you know her daily routine?”

Thomas hoped that it was dark enough that Minho couldn’t see him flushing with embarrassment. “Slim it, Newt.”

Thomas loved the sound of Newt’s laughter, even despite it being very much at his expense.

“What, did he follow her or something?” asked Minho.

Thomas suddenly found the floor _fascinating,_ and focused his eyes on that, rather than his friend’s face.

“Wait, it _that_ why you were late to the children’s centre yesterday? I had to listen to Newt whine for ages because you were off stalking some girl?”

“I wasn’t _whining._ ”

“You totally were.”

“We’ve still got some time before her class ends,” Thomas interjected. “We could spend it standing here, or we _could_ go to the children’s centre, or somewhere else where it’s actually warm.”

“Thomas,” said Minho, “that's the most sensible thing you've said all shucking day.”

 

Newt and Minho insisted on going with Thomas to the high street that evening.

Last time around, Brenda has been taken, and most likely killed, today. That was after the killer had been delayed by a day in his plan to kill Teresa. Thomas still couldn’t remember the exact day that Brenda had died the first time around, but it was later on.

Now that the killer hadn’t been able to get Teresa, Thomas couldn’t predict exactly how he’d approach Brenda. She wasn’t necessarily in a lot of danger yet. But she could be.

He just didn’t know.

But when the three of them saw her getting on the bus, they could be confident that she wouldn’t be targeted today. Brenda was safe for now.

“I guess you shanks are planning to walk me home?”

“That’s about it, yeah,” said Newt.

“Tough. I’ve got some things I need to say to Thomas, so _you’re_ gonna be the one who’s going home first.”

“Sure, I’m fine with that,” said Thomas before Newt could argue.

Newt’s frown communicated that he wasn’t happy with the situation, but he wordlessly deferred to Thomas’ judgement.

 

“So,” said Thomas once they’d seen Newt safely home. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

They walked in silence for a short while as Minho mulled it over.

Eventually, he spoke. “You’re asking me for a lot of trust here, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And what you’re claiming? It’s crazy. If I didn’t know you better I’d say you were outta your shuck mind.”

Thomas laughed. “Isn’t that just what I’m always like?”

“Shut up and let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

Minho stopped walking and grabbed Thomas’ arm so he would too. Thomas turned and faced his friend, nodding for him to continue talking.

“You’ve got Newt convinced. And, yeah, that shank does seem to become slightly less logical when it comes to you, shuck knows _why,_ but he’s actually got his head on right. He’s usually the first in line to tell you when you’re talking nonsense or being a slinthead. But he believes you. And he’s right that even if it is all pretend, you’re doing enough actual good to make it worth it. And I guess that’s good enough for me.”

“So you-”

“I’m saying I’m with you on this. But Thomas, if you’re gonna ask us to trust you, then you’ve gotta trust us. It works both ways.”

“I know that, but-”

“Newt really was worried yesterday. I’ve been teasing him, and I’m gonna keep doing that because honestly it’s hilarious, but if you’re so convinced that there’s a serial killer about then maybe you shouldn’t go off on your own without telling anyone where you are?”

He had a point.

He had a very good point.

Thomas slumped. “Okay,” he said. “I hear you. I’ll make sure to tell you guys where I am next time.”

Minho nodded. “Good that.” He started walking again.

Thomas jogged to catch up. “Was that it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh. In that case, thanks.”

“What for?”

Thomas smiled. “For saying that you trust me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Minho rolled his eyes, but was smiling. “Just don’t make me regret it.”


	60. Chapter 60

They planned to actually approach Brenda after school the next day. Watching from afar might mean that they knew what she was doing, but it wasn’t going to help protect her. They needed to make sure that the killer didn’t even get an opportunity to approach her.

“Hey,” said Siggy at the end of the day. “It hasn’t snowed in a while. We could go to the hideout tonight?”

Thomas froze. Telling Alby and Siggy what they were up to wasn’t part of the plan, but Thomas didn’t want to lie to them. They were his friends.

“Sorry, we can’t,” said Minho.

“How come?” asked Siggy.

Minho shrugged. “Thomas, Newt, and I have some errands to run. We won’t make it there tonight.” He picked up his bag and slung it over his back. “You and Alby can still go, though. Don’t let us stop you.”

Siggy crossed his arms and huffed. “There’s not much point if it’s just gonna be the two of us.”

“We’ll be there tomorrow,” said Newt. “But we have things we need to do tonight.”

“Can’t they wait?”

“‘Fraid not, Siggy.” Newt picked his own bag up. “C’mon then,” he said, and walked out of the classroom.

Minho followed, and Thomas tried to ignore Alby’s look of suspicion as he did the same.

 

Brenda was sitting on the bench when the boys reached it. Her book was already out, and she was engrossed in it. As they approached her, Thomas could see that she was practically radiating enthusiasm, her eyes wide and fascinated.

She didn’t show any sign of knowing that they were there.

“Uh, hi!” said Thomas.

She didn’t look up.

“Excuse me?” said Newt.

Still no response.

“Hey, you!” said Minho.

Her hands tightened around the edges of her book. She brought her head up and fixed Minho with a cool look.

“Can I help you?”

Thomas stepped forwards, drawing her attention. “Hi, you’re Brenda Rosier, right? I’m Thomas Cooper.”

“I’m Newt Ross.” He gave a small wave.

Minho crossed his arms. “Minho Park.”

Minho gave a quiet yelp. Thomas was pretty sure that Newt had just jabbed him with his elbow.

Brenda just narrowed her eyes. “How do you know my name? Do I know you?”

“Uh...”

Great, they were barely a minute in to the conversation and he’d already made a mistake. He should’ve pretended not to know her at all. They were trying to befriend her, not scare her, and any sensible person would be at least a little concerned if a total stranger suddenly called them by name.

That she was being guarded was slightly reassuring, as it should make her harder to kidnap. Then again, it hadn’t done her much good before.

Thomas realised that he hadn’t responded to her question, and she was looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Newt stepped in. “What’cha reading?”

Brenda’s eyes lit up, concern apparently forgotten. She held up her book so that the boys could see the cover.

The book that had had her so fascinated wasn’t a novel, as Thomas had assumed, but was in fact a high school biology textbook.

“Whoa,” said Newt.

“Are you really smart or something?” asked Minho.

Brenda laid the textbook back in her lap as she shrugged. “Not really? I want to be a doctor when I grow up, so this stuff’s really interesting to me.”

“That’s awesome,” said Thomas. “Most people have no idea what they want to do.”

Brenda shot him a smile, and froze. The smile slipped from her face.

“I _do_ know you!” She shoved the textbook to the side and jumped to her feet, pointing a finger at him. “ _You’re_ that boy who knocked me over the other day!”

“He did _what?_ ”

Thomas didn’t need to turn around to know that Newt was glaring at him. He could _feel_ his friend’s eyes boring into the side of his head.

He turned to face him anyway, laughing nervously. “Remember when I was late last Friday? I ran into her on the way. Literally.” He turned back towards Brenda, ignoring Minho’s laughter. “I’m really sorry about that. I should’ve been paying more attention to where I was going.”

She crossed her arms in a huff. “Is _that_ why you’re here then? To apologise?” She was acting as if she was angry, but the mischievous glint in her eyes gave her away.

“Partly,” said Thomas. “But also we’d noticed that you spend a lot of time alone here, and we were wondering if you wanted to be friends?”

Brenda looked at the three of them in turn, thinking something over. Then, she pulled herself to her full height and said, “I _was_ gonna ask how you knew I came out here, but I just realised where I know the rest of you from.”

“Tommy’s the only one you’ve met before, though.” Newt frowned. “Or, at least, _I_ don’t know you.”

“I didn’t say I’d met you, just that I knew you from somewhere.” She smirked, clearly enjoying herself.

A few seconds of silence passed.

“Well?” Minho sounded like he wasn’t finding this nearly as funny as Brenda apparently was. “Are you gonna tell us, or what?”

Brenda pointed across the river. “You’re the boys who are always sneaking into the old Scouts’ building.”

Thomas turned to look.

From the covered picnic area, there was a perfect view of the building that Thomas’ friendship group used as their secret hideout, _and_ the route that they usually used to get in.

“Damn,” he said softly.

“Tell me about it,” said Newt. He caught Thomas’ eye and grinned. “Guess it’s not so secret after all.”

They turned back towards Brenda at the sound of her scoffing.

“It’s a _secret?_ ”

“Yeah,” said Minho. He puffed out his chest and proudly said, “It’s our secret hideout.”

Brenda stared at him for a moment. She raised an eyebrow and said, “That’s so childish.”

“It is NOT!”

Minho took a step towards her, but was jerked back by Newt grabbing onto the back of his coat. Thomas fixed Minho with a look that he hoped communicated how unimpressed he was that he seemed to be itching for a fight.

But Brenda wasn’t done. “You’re all probably really childish if you think sneaking into abandoned buildings is cool. I bet you play superhero, too.”

Thomas promptly forgot what his aims in talking to her had been.

He was going to give this little brat a piece of his mind.

But he couldn’t get closer.

Something was stopping him from moving.

His coat.

His _coat_ was holding him back?

No, something was holding his coat, which was in turn holding him back.

Some _one._

Thomas stopped struggling and turned around.

Newt was shaking his head, but there was a faint smile on his face. “You shuck-faces are gonna be the death of me. I’m not strong enough to hold you _both_ back!”

Thomas tried to disguise his wince. He turned back to face Brenda, letting Minho point out that Newt definitely _did_ just hold them both back, proving that he could, so there wasn’t any point trying to claim the opposite.

Brenda was shoving her textbook into her bag. She zipped it shut and swung it onto her back, then noticed that Thomas was looking at her. “Okay,” she said, “so this has been...” She paused, and didn’t finish that sentence. “I need to go now, so...”

Unsure of what to say, Thomas simply nodded. He stepped back to allow her more room to leave.

Operation: Befriend Brenda had been unsuccessful.

“Hey!” called out a voice behind them.

The three boys turned to see Siggy standing there, with Alby trailing along just behind. Thomas, Newt, and Minho all stepped out of Siggy’s way as he strode his way up to Brenda.

“I think that secret hideouts are totally cool!” Siggy grinned at her. “You should come along sometime. You might even like it!”

Brenda stared at him in shock for a moment. Then, she brought her hands up to the straps of her bag, yelled, “You’re all a bunch of weirdos!” and ran off.

Newt shot Alby a sideways glance. “So how long were you shanks spying on us for?”

Alby turned his head to face away from Newt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Sure you don’t.”

Minho kicked at the ground. “ _She’s_ childish.”

“Yup,” agreed Thomas. “She most definitely is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm probably not going to be able to update again until next sunday (a week tomorrow) because i'm going away for the week and won't have my computer with me, but after that it'll be business as usual !!! thank you so much for sticking with this so far !!!!!


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi !!! i'm back !!! thank you so much for your patience this past week : D

Thomas was just about to begin his journey to school on Friday morning when his mother stopped him.

“How about you invite everyone round this evening?”

“Sure, okay,” said Thomas. “What time?”

“How does five sound?”

Thomas nodded. “Five sounds good. I’ll make sure they’re all here.”

With that sorted, he stepped out of the apartment.

Brenda’s evening classes started at around five, so that plan worked well. He’d be able to keep an eye on her beforehand, spend time with his friends at home, and see her safely onto that bus afterwards.

Speaking of buses, one was pulling up on the other side of the road. He didn’t pay too much attention to it. It was the school run, there were buses. This wasn’t unusual.

Why had his mother suggested that he invite his friends round, anyway? He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but still. It was strange. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, and nothing else had happened that merited celebrating.

Thomas shrugged to himself, dismissing it from his mind. She was probably just being nice. There didn’t have to be a reason for it.

The bus pulled away. Most of the people who had gotten off were older kids, headed for the secondary school, along with one or two adults. There was also a young girl trailing behind the back of the group.

Thomas did a double take. That girl didn’t usually get off this bus, and he _definitely_ hadn’t been expecting to see her.

She glanced across the road, saw him, and broke into a huge grin. “Hi, Tom!” she called out, waving.

Thomas turned to run across the road to her.

Her face morphed into one of horror. “No, stop!”

He did. So suddenly, in fact, that he fell backwards.

The truck sped by before he even hit the ground. It had been going way too fast to stop. If Thomas had taken a moment longer to get out of the way, he’d almost certainly be dead.

Oops.

“That was close,” said a voice from above him.

Thomas looked up to see Teresa holding out her hand. He took it, letting her help pull him to his feet.

“Sorry,” he said. “And thanks for warning me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you’d actually paid attention to the world around you for once, then I wouldn’t have had to.”

Thomas felt an embarrassed smile creep onto his face. “I was just excited to see you.”

She tutted, but also smiled. “You should at least _try_ not to get yourself killed.”

“Noted,” said Thomas, letting out a laugh. “Also, we can never let Minho find out about what just happened.”

“Agreed,” she said, without any hesitation. “We’d never hear the end of it.”

They started walking towards school.

“How come you’re here, anyway?”

“They figured that it would be too disruptive if I switched schools halfway through the year, so they’re letting me commute to here. Mr Janson insisted, apparently.”

“What about next year?” Thomas tried not to show how much her answer would mean to him.

He needn’t have worried. Joy was clear in her voice as she said, “That’s stayed the same as well! We’ll still be going to the same school.”

Abandoning all pretense, Thomas threw an arm in the air in celebration. “Yes! The others are gonna be so happy to hear that!”

“How _are_ the others? And what’ve you all been up to while I’ve been gone?”

“They’re great. Minho’s still being ridiculous, but that’s to be expected.”

“Has he picked a new victim?”

“Not really? He’s started trying to get Newt to tell him who he has a crush on, but he hasn’t let the thing about us go yet.”

She sighed, but Thomas could tell it was mostly for show. “I guess that would’ve been too much to hope for.”

“As for what we’ve been doing, we’ve been trying to become friends with a girl from Scorch.”

Thomas didn’t want to tell Teresa about the serial killer, but he needed to bring her up to speed about everything else. They still planned on helping Brenda, after all, and there was no way that they were going to keep that from her.

Teresa brought a hand up to her chest in obviously put-upon hurt. “Oh, I see how it is. I’m not even gone a week and you’re already trying to replace me.”

He knew she was joking, but just in case she even slightly believed in what she was saying, he decided to explain a little more. “It’s not that at all! We just noticed that she’s alone a lot.”

“So you’ve decided to become her friends?”

“Yeah! It’s like we’re playing detective. Because if somebody was gonna get hurt, it would be someone who spends a lot of time alone. And even if we’re being paranoid, we’re stopping people from being lonely, which is a good thing.”

Teresa frowned as she considered what he’d said. A few seconds later, her expression cleared. “Alright,” she said. “I’m in.”

“Great!” Thomas grinned. “Yesterday didn’t quite go to plan, though.”

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

 

“Can everyone who’s a member of the running club please come to the front? The rest of you can go to lunch.”

Thomas, Minho, and Newt made their way to Mr Janson’s desk at the front of the classroom. Gally, Ben, and a couple of others joined them there.

Mr Janson smiled at a couple of them. “There’s no need to worry, you’re not in trouble. I’ll just get straight to the point. There’s an athletics competition after school on Monday, and we still need a runner from this class to participate.”

“Sir, this is really short notice,” said Newt.

“I know,” said Mr Janson, “and I’m sorry about that. I was under the impression that you’d been told and that the situation was being handled until this morning. Of course, your club has been cancelled for the last few weeks. I should’ve considered that.”

“How many people do you need?” asked Ben.

“One, although it would probably be a good idea to take a reserve as well.”

“Gally should do it,” said Thomas.

“What?” Minho snapped his head towards him, which Thomas ignored.

Mr Janson chuckled and looked towards Newt. “Actually, I was _hoping_ that-”

“I can’t make it,” Newt interrupted. “Not on Monday. So I agree, Gally should do it.”

“But-” Minho tried to protest.

“Last time we had a race, you won, didn’t you Gally?” Thomas turned to look at him as he spoke.

Gally nodded slowly, clearly confused. “Yeah, I did, but that was only because-”

“And you’re free Monday, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Then it’s settled.” Thomas turned back to face Mr Janson. “Gally’s your runner. And if Gally’s going, then Ben should be your reserve.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas could see Ben’s mouth drop open in shock while most of the other kids nodded in approval.

“Right then,” said Mr Janson as he wrote something down. “Gally, Ben, could I talk to you two for a bit longer? The rest of you can go.”

The group dispersed.

When they reached their friends at the back of the classroom, Thomas felt a sharp pain on the back of his head.

“Hey!” He brought his hand up to where Minho had hit him. “What was that for?”

“Gally? _Really?_ Did you even consider that _I_ might’ve wanted to do it?”

“Slim it, Minho,” said Newt. “You only ever like going to competitions if I’m there too, and I already said I wasn’t gonna do it. You’d have pulled out anyway.”

“Or I’d have dragged you along. You’re such a liar, you don’t have any plans on Monday.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Is looking out for Brenda not good enough, then? I wasn’t lying.”

Minho threw his arms up, conceding the point, and turned back towards Thomas. “But why Gally? I mean, really? That slinthead? Why’d you have to nominate _him?_ ”

Thomas shrugged. “He’s the next fastest after us. Besides, look.” He gestured towards the front of the classroom. “See how happy they are?”

Mr Janson had finished talking to them by now, so Ben and Gally were sat at Gally’s desk. Gally was _trying_ to disguise his glee, but Ben wasn’t bothering to. They were both talking rapidly and Ben was gesturing wildly.

Minho scowled.

“Do you even remember _why_ you hate Gally so much?” asked Alby.

Minho didn’t respond, instead dropping into a chair and grabbing his lunch out of his bag.

“Min,” said Newt gently. “It’s been ages. Maybe it’s time to let it go?”

“If he gives me a good enough reason, I might consider it.”

Newt caught Thomas’ eye, sighed, and shrugged.

It was a good thing that Gally and Ben were friends, and that they spent time together. Thomas didn’t think that Minho would’ve taken kindly to any suggestion of letting Gally back into their friendship group. He was extremely glad that it hadn’t been necessary.

He’d never even considered how Gally had coped after Minho’s death, the first time around. The situation between the two of them had never been resolved.

But that didn’t matter anymore.

He had plenty of time to fix it.


	62. Chapter 62

The group were a little later leaving school than they usually were. Teresa needed to go to the staff room to sign some forms, and spent a few minutes talking to Mr Janson about how she was settling in at her grandmother’s. They weren’t held up for very long, though.

“So are we gonna go to the hideout today?” asked Siggy.

Newt, who was leading the group, spun and walked backwards. “Yeah,” he said. “We are,”

Siggy punched the air. “Yes! Finally!”

Newt laughed and turned back around.

Teresa gently elbowed Thomas in the side, pulling his attention from the back of Newt’s head.

“Hideout?”

“You know the building that the Scouts group used before it shut?” She nodded. “We started using it as a hideout a little while ago. We didn’t want to go there when snow’d freshly fallen, ‘cause the footprints would make it obvious we were using it.”

“Not that it made a difference,” grumbled Minho. “That Brenda girl knew we were there anyway.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Newt called back. “We’d have told her about it anyway.”

“But it was _supposed_ to be a secret.”

Teresa laughed. “You’re not having a very good day today, are you Minho?”

“ _No_ I’m _not!_ ” His voice had taken on a slightly exaggerated tone. He was playing his distress up enough that it was clear that he wasn’t being completely serious.

“Minho,” said Alby.

“Yes?”

“Quit your whining”

“But _Albyyyyy._ ” Minho flung his head back and dragged his feet along the pavement.

Thomas simply smiled, content to watch his friends laugh and joke around.

He’d missed moments like these so, so much.

  


Sometime shortly before the day that Thomas had been sent back to, he’d gotten a new pair of gloves, and promptly lost them.

It turned out that he’d been right about where he’d left them. He spotted them on his usual chair inside the hideout, underneath the window.

He picked them up and shoved them deep into his bag. It was nice to have them back and all, but he _much_ preferred the pair that Teresa had made for him. These could be his spare pair.

“Is Brenda at the bench?” asked Newt.

Thomas tried to look out of the window, only to find himself staring at a blank wall. He wasn’t tall enough. Cursing his 11-year-old body, Thomas climbed onto his chair and wiped the condensation from the glass.

“No, she isn’t,” he said. He jumped down.

Newt frowned, looking at his watch. “Isn’t she usually there by now?”

“She’s probably just running a little late,” said Alby. “It’s not a big deal.”

Thomas, Newt and Minho exchanged a look. Normally, they’d have agreed with Alby. People were allowed to vary their daily routine by a couple of minutes. But there was a potential serial killer in town, and Brenda was a target.

So if she could _not_ vary her daily routine, that would be very helpful.

“If it helps,” said Teresa, “I don’t think it’s all that childish to have a specific hangout place that’s just for us.”

The worry cleared from Minho’s eyes. He turned towards Teresa and beamed. “I know, right? That girl doesn’t know what she’s missing out on!”

Whatever Teresa was about to say in response was interrupted by the door slamming open.

Nobody other than them had ever come to the hideout. At least, not while they were there. And the lack of footprints around it, along with the fact that nothing had been moved in their absence, made Thomas sure that nobody had been there while they hadn’t been, either.

So who’d just barged in?

Everyone fell silent as they looked at the doorway.

Brenda was stood there, one hand still on the door where she’d shoved it open, her other one clutching the strap of her backpack. Her eyes jumped between the people already in the room. She took a deep breath.

“I’ve come to see what’s so great about your stupid hideout.”

She tensed, as if readying herself to turn and run.

Siggy jumped to his feet. “That’s great! Welcome! My name’s Siggy, what’s yours?”

Brenda visibly relaxed and took a step further in, letting the door close behind her. “I thought you all knew it already?”

Siggy let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, kinda.”

Brenda smiled. “I’m Brenda.” She pointed towards Newt. “That’s Newt. I know the other two,” she gestured towards Thomas and Minho, “told me their names too, but I don’t remember them, sorry.”

“How come you remember his but not ours?” said Minho.

“Because his name’s _Newt._ That’s pretty memorable.”

Newt pointed at Minho. “That one’s Minho. I swear he’s nice, really. He’s just being a tad overdramatic today.”

As if to prove Newt’s point, Minho crossed his arms with an exaggerated huff and turned away from him.

Thomas laughed and re-introduced himself. Alby followed suit.

“And I’m Teresa.” She smiled at Brenda. “I wasn’t there yesterday. Sorry you had to deal with this lot on your own.”

“Hey!” Minho whipped his head back around. “You make it sound like talking to us is a bad thing.”

Teresa shrugged.

“I have _never_ been so _insulted_ in my-”

Newt raised a hand and interrupted. “All those in favour of throwing Minho into the river, say aye.”

Minho’s mouth dropped open at the chorus of ‘aye’s that followed.

“Traitors, all of you.”

Newt winked at him, then caught Thomas’ eye and grinned.

Thomas knew what Teresa and Newt had been trying to do. Brenda had looked incredibly nervous and uncomfortable when she’d shown up, so Teresa and Newt had immediately tried to put her at ease. And Minho had practically volunteered himself to made fun of in order to achieve that.

Minho didn’t _really_ mind, and anyway, it had worked! Brenda had said hello to everyone, and had now sat next to Siggy, engaging him and Alby in a quiet conversation. Before long, she’d pulled her textbook out of her bag and was excitedly showing it to them.

Thomas turned away from them.

Teresa and Minho had struck up their own conversation. Minho was gesturing wildly, throwing his whole body into it. Teresa was finding whatever he was saying to be entertaining, if her laughter was anything to go by.

That just left Newt.

When Thomas looked at the boy sitting next to him, he found that Newt had already been looking at him. The fond smile slipped from his face as he realised that he’d been caught.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” said Newt.

“What’cha staring at?”

Newt nudged his shoulder. “I wasn’t staring.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t! You just looked happy, is all.” Newt let a small smile slip back onto his face. “It was nice to see.”

“Are you saying I’m not normally happy?”

“No! It’s just...” He lowered his voice. “It’s just you’ve been really worried and focused lately, haven’t you? But right there,” he pointed at Thomas’ chest, “was a moment of peace. It was nice to see you relax.”

“Excuse you, I’ve relaxed _plenty._ ”

Newt chuckled. “True. But those moments are _always_ nice to see. So, sorry if I was staring, but I didn’t want to miss one second.”

Thomas smiled. “You don’t need apologise, it’s fine.” He leant back in his chair. “I kinda get what you mean.”

“It’s a relief, right? That Brenda came here on her own.”

Thomas nodded. “Exactly.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay now? And Minho?”

Thomas looked over at him, a placed a hand on his shoulder. He watched the worry that had started to creep into his eyes bleed out again. “Yes, Newt,” he said. “I think they’re going to be fine.”


	63. Chapter 63

“Why did your mum say to invite us over?” asked Minho.

Brenda had had to go to her evening class, and the rest of the group were on their way to Thomas’ apartment.

“She didn’t say.”

“And you didn’t ask?” Disbelief coloured his voice. “Wow, Thomas, what’s gotten into you?”

“I was literally walking out of the door this morning when she said it. If I’d had time, I would’ve asked her.”

“That’s probably _why_ she waited until you were leaving, Tommy,” said Newt. “Specifically to avoid your questioning.”

Thomas shrugged. “Well, we’re about to find out.”

They group stopped walking in front of his apartment’s door. Thomas unlocked the door and pulled it open.

_POP!_

A banner had been strung up through the middle of the front room, the letters on it spelling out ‘WELCOME BACK TERESA!!’. There were plates of sandwiches cut into small triangles on the table, like the sort you have at parties. In the centre of the table was a cake.

The popping sound had come from Thomas’ mother. Or, rather, it had come from the party popper in her hand.

Thomas’ eyes widened in realisation. “You knew Teresa would be coming back today!”

His mother smiled. “I may or may not have been made aware.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“And miss out on seeing your faces just now? No chance.” She stepped out of the way. “Come on then, kids. Dig in.”

“No party hats this time?” said Minho as they all grabbed a chair. “C’mon Miss Cooper!”

“Newt brought the hats last time. They weren’t anything to do with me.”

“Besides,” Newt cut in, “party hats are for birthdays. This is a welcome back party. It’s completely different.”

“Even so, two parties in two weeks?” Alby raised an eyebrow at Teresa. “Surely that’s a lot.”

“I didn’t plan them,” she replied as she grabbed a sandwich from the plate nearest to her. Before taking a bite, she shifted in her seat and looked up at Thomas’ mother. “Thank you for this.”

She smiled down at her. “It’s not a problem. Now eat! Enjoy!”

The kids did just that.

 

A short while later, when they’d finished their sandwiches and each had some cake (which had been more of the amazing chocolate one, and Thomas needed to either find out where his mother had got it or how she’d made it because _holy shit_ ), the group had retreated into Thomas’ room.

“So, Thomas,” said Minho, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “what’cha gonna do now that Teresa’s back.”

“ _Teresa’s_ sitting right here,” she said, rolling her eyes. She was right next to him, in fact.

Minho pretended not to hear her. “Well?” he said.

Thomas made himself look as confused as possible. “Why would I do anything differently now that Teresa’s here?”

“Well, are you gonna ask her out, or aren’t you?”

“I’m sitting right here!”

Thomas shook his head. “You’re easily entertained, aren’t you Minho?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Teresa shoved Minho in the side, hard, and he ended up sprawled on the floor. “Does that? Or do you still need some help?”

He glared at her as he sat back up, but there was no real heat behind it.

“Minho, I swear you’re only ever _this_ annoying about a pairing when you’re completely wrong,” said Newt.

“How do _you_ know I’m wrong?”

“Because they told me so. Both separately and together. _And_ they’ve told you. They just did.”

“They could be lying!”

“Why would they?” Alby chimed in. “You know that Thomas, at least, would tell you if he really _did_ like her. Maybe you should give it a rest for now?”

Minho considered this for a second, then swiveled his head to face Newt.

“Oh no,” Newt murmured. Thomas was pretty sure that he hadn’t intended for anyone else to hear it.

“If I’m not allowed to talk about Thomas and Teresa then why don’t we talk about you?”

“What?” asked Alby.

“Nothing! There’s nothing!” Newt’s voice gradually increased in volume. “Just ignore him, Alby.”

“Newt,” said Minho, turning towards Alby, “has a crush on someone. But the little shank won’t tell me who it is.”

Newt pulled his legs to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and buried his head in them. He mumbled something, but Thomas couldn’t make out what he was trying to say.

“Minho,” said Siggy, “I don’t think Newt’s okay with you talking about that.”

“Yeah,” said Thomas. “I mean, just look at him.”

“Newt?” Minho said gently. “Real talk, do you want me to stop?”

Newt lifted his head. His face had gone red. “That would be brilliant, mate.”

“Okay,” said Minho. “I won’t tease you about your crush anymore. I’m still _dying_ to know who it is, and I expect you to tell me at some point. But, until you’re ready to do that, I’ll shut up about it. Good that?”

Newt smiled in relief and stretched his legs back out. “Good that.”

 

At 6:20pm, Siggy said that he had to go.

“Are you going to meet Brenda, by any chance?” asked Minho.

Siggy smiled. “Yeah. Her class ends soon, and I was gonna walk her home.”

Minho clapped him on the shoulder. “Go for it, man!”

Alby left not long after, and was soon followed by Teresa.

“The last bus is at seven, so I have to go now or not at all, and my grandma specifically said that I had to come home tonight.”

Thomas insisted on walking her to the bus stop and saw her safely onto the bus, agreeing to see her again over the weekend.

When he got back home, Newt and Minho were sat on the sofa.

“Hey,” said Minho. “I meant to ask earlier, but would it be okay if I stayed here again tonight? It’s just, Fridays are when my parents work latest, and-”

“Of course you can,” said Thomas. “Do you need to run home and get stuff, or do you already have it, or do you just want to borrow?”

Minho smiled, and some tension that Thomas hadn’t even noticed had been there drained away from him. “I can run home and grab stuff.”

“I’ll go with him,” said Newt. “And then I’ll be right back.” He laughed at Thomas’ questioning look. “I can’t leave you two shanks alone together. _Especially_ not overnight. You’ll burn the place down, or something.”

Thomas and Minho exchanged a glance, and burst into laughter.

They couldn’t exactly defend themselves against that accusation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg so i completely forgot to say this last chapter but this fic hit 300 kudos recently !!!!!!!! i'm completely floored that so many people like this story, thank you all so much <3


	64. Chapter 64

Just like the week before, Thomas woke up on his bedroom floor with Newt curled up with his head on his chest and his arm curled around his waist.  _ Unlike  _ the week before, Minho was pressed up against his other side. Last week, there’d been a bit more distance between him and Minho, probably because Teresa had been there too. She’d have been left out if the three of them had snuggled up together like they were now.

“Either of you awake?” whispered Thomas.

“Yeah,” said Minho, equally as quietly.

No response came from Newt.

“You sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” said Minho. “You?”

“Yeah.”

Minho shifted his head and looked over at Newt. “He looks comfortable.”

Thomas smiled. “He does.”

“Can you move?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want to?”

“Nope.”

“What if you need to pee or something?”

Thomas gave a small shrug, trying not to disturb the boy holding onto him. “I don’t need to, though.”

“What if your mum’s made breakfast?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s too early for that.”

“She had by this time last week.”

“We had to do stuff last week, though. There aren’t any fixed plans for today.”

“Except meeting up with the others.”

“True, but that’s not ‘til later.”

“True.” Minho shifted again so that he was lying completely on his back. His side was still pressed against Thomas’, but not quite as closely as when they’d woken up. “When did he get so comfortable with you, anyway?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“I don’t even know, to be honest. But at sleepovers and stuff he doesn’t normally do that.” Minho turned his head on its side to look at Thomas, and grinned. “We usually find him curled up in a corner, don’t we?”

Thomas was suddenly hit with memories of just that. The group would stay up way too late watching films and playing games, until they started crashing out one by one. Newt had always been the last to fall asleep, and so was always the last to wake up. They’d find him in a corner, away from the rest of them, like he’d been watching over them or something before sleep had finally overtaken him.

Thomas smiled. “I prefer him doing this. It means he’s actually getting some sleep, you know? Instead of waiting for everyone else.”

“I think he did still wait for us to sleep. I know we were up talking after you’d gone last night.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “What were you talking about?”

“You think I remember?” Minho let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything bad.”

“Didn’t think it was.” Thomas looked down at the head on his chest. “Did this happen while he was awake?”

Minho looked up at the ceiling and shrugged. “I dunno, I fell asleep. Does it matter?”

_ Yes. _

Thomas couldn’t for the life of him think of why his brain had just said that.

“No,” he said aloud, “I guess it doesn’t.”

“He’d know,” said Minho. “You could ask him?”

“That’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” said Thomas, in a tone of voice that clearly said that this should’ve been obvious, “if I draw his attention to it then he might get embarrassed, and then he might stop.”

“Why would he get embarrassed?” Minho sounded genuinely confused. “There’s nothing wrong with what he’s doing.”

“I know  _ that. _ But he might not.”

“Isn’t he the sensible one, though?”

Thomas chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, “but klunk like this doesn’t have to be logical.”

“So you don’t want him to stop?”

“No,” said Thomas. “Like you said, he looks comfortable,  _ and  _ we know he got more than one hour’s sleep.”

“That’s not true. For all we know he was up all night staring at your shuck face.”

A muffled grumble came from Newt’s general direction, and his arm curled tighter around Thomas’ waist.

“Okay, Newt,” said Thomas. “How long have you been listening?”

More grumbles, this time accompanying him burying his face deeper into Thomas’ chest.

“I’m gonna take that as ‘not very’, and also take this opportunity to use the bathroom.” Minho rolled over and wriggled out of his sleeping bag. “Good luck detaching yourself, Thomas,” he said, and he left the room.

“It’s okay,” said Thomas. “There’s no rush. You can go back to sleep, if you want.”

Newt lifted his head and looked into Thomas’ eyes. He was barely even half awake, and it showed. His eyes were falling shut as he murmured, “This okay, Tommy?”

Thomas smiled, and pushed Newt’s head back down onto his chest. “Yeah, Newt. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Thomas couldn’t quite make out Newt’s response, but in a few seconds his breathing had evened out again, having fallen back asleep.

Not for the first time, Thomas felt a rush of protectiveness wash over him.

Newt wasn’t a target of the killer’s, and there was nearly a decade before...

No, Thomas couldn’t afford to rely on that. Minho’s survival alone changed so much about their lives, not to mention Teresa and Brenda. Thomas couldn’t know exactly  _ why  _ Newt had killed himself, but it would be stupid not to assume that their friend’s death and the resulting loneliness had been a contributing factor.

But that couldn’t be all there was to it. There must’ve been other reasons. Reasons that could still happen. Saving the others probably wouldn’t be enough to save Newt.

No matter what, Thomas was going to be there for him. Newt wasn’t allowed to die. He wasn’t even allowed to consider the possibility.

Thomas would make sure of it.

  
  


Thomas’ thoughts returned to the future’s predictability later in the day, when the group was at the hideout.

He’d successfully saved Teresa, Brenda, and Minho from the killer. They weren’t spending anywhere near as much time alone as they had been before. Teresa was closely under the authorities’ watch, which kept her safe from both her mother and anyone who might be wanting to snatch her. Brenda had been walked home the night before by Siggy, who’d also brought her along to the hideout today.

It was kinda funny, how Siggy had managed to solve the Brenda problem without even knowing that there was a problem to fix.

And Minho had only ever been targeted to hide the killer’s true identity. In that case, he was doubly saved, what with the girls still being alive  _ and  _ him spending more time with other people.

The killer had lost all of his chosen victims.

But, when taking into account everything that the killer had done, and everything that Thomas hoped and prayed that he’d  _ never  _ do, Thomas knew that there was no chance that the killer was just going to give up.

So, what? Was the killer going to be try and find a more creative way to get to his targets? Or would he pick new ones? Thomas couldn’t predict him, so the safest course of action would be to assume that both were likely.

Newt nudged Thomas’ shoulder. “I can feel your wheels spinning. What’cha thinkin’ about?”

“It’s not over yet.”

The smile on Newt’s face faded slightly. “I know, Tommy.” He looked at the rest of their friends. “I know.”


	65. Chapter 65

On Sunday, as the group was making their way into the hideout, Teresa grabbed Thomas’ arm and pulled him back.

“Can I talk to you? Without the others?”

“Sure,” Thomas replied, stepping out of the way so that Alby and Brenda could get past.

Newt reappeared at the door. “Are you two coming in, or what?”

Teresa grinned. “I’m just borrowing Tom for a minute. That okay?”

Newt looked conflicted for a moment, but the expression cleared so quickly that Thomas was almost certain that he’d imagined it.

He shrugged. “That’s up to him, not me.”

“Great!” Teresa tightened her grip on Thomas’ arm and pulled him away from the building, over to the covered picnic benches that Brenda had used to sit at.

Thomas pulled his arm free of Teresa’s grip and stepped up on the bench so that he could sit on the table. “So,” he said. “What did you wanna say that the others couldn’t hear?”

Teresa smiled at him, and looked down at where his feet rested on the bench.

“I know you and Newt told me not to thank you for anything, but I’m gonna go ahead and ignore that. Because you got me away from her, from that whole situation, and I’m always gonna be grateful.” She moved her gaze up to his face, and stared deep into his eyes. “You saved my life, Tom. Thank you. You’re my hero.”

Her?

Hero?

Her hero?

Thomas had no idea how to react to that. He hadn’t expected her to thank him. He hadn’t wanted her to, and had told her as much. He didn’t want her to feel indebted to him. That wasn’t why he’d done it.

_“I’m a superhero. Or, at least, I wanna be?”_

In this moment, more than ever, Thomas was convinced of the truth of what he’d said to Newt. At the time it had simply been a terrible attempt at explaining without actually saying anything, but it _was_ true. He wanted to help people, to save them, to make a difference in their lives.

To hear that someone considered him their hero was...

It was amazing.

“Hey!”

A clump of snow hit him in the face.

“Say something! Don’t just sit there staring at me!”

Thomas held out his hands to ward her off from throwing more at him. “Sorry! It’s just. That was really sweet of you and I had no idea what to say.”

She smirked and dropped the clump of snow she’d been holding. “I made you speechless?”

Thomas nodded.

“Has that ever even happened before?”

“Slim it.”

She laughed, and hopped up onto the bench, sitting on the table next to him.

“I get why you wanted to say that in private.”

“Yeah,” said Teresa. “Minho would’ve had a field day with it.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“I’m sorry to say, Tom, that I am _not_ in love with you. Just so we’re clear.”

“I hear you,” said Thomas. “And ditto.”

“Good that.”

Thomas grinned. “Good shucking that.”

Teresa nudged him with her elbow. “There was something else I wanted to say, too.”

“What is it?”

Teresa turned her head away from him, instead looking towards the hideout. “I’m kinda worried about Beth.”

“Beth? Why? Isn’t she horrible to you?”

“She _was._ But ever since the lunch money thing, she hasn’t been. And all of her friends have ditched her. She’s been _alone._ I saw her coming out of the staff room on Friday, and she didn’t even look at me.” Teresa took a deep breath. “I know it wasn’t my fault. _She_ was being nasty to _me._ And that’s _why_ her friends haven’t been talking to her anymore. But still, she’s clearly miserable, and I was involved.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

“It’s easier said than done.”

“I know.”

They fell silent.

Thomas hadn’t given Beth all that much thought. He’d noticed that her friends weren’t talking to her anymore. It’d be impressive if he hadn’t, seeing as it had meant that his friendship group hadn’t been able to congregate around his desk anymore, because she’d stayed sitting there instead of joining her own friends. Thomas could admit that he could be a little bit oblivious at times, but even he wasn’t _that_ dumb.

If the killer was looking for a new target, Beth was exactly the kind of person he’d latch on to.

Movement from the hideout door interrupted his thoughts.

Newt jogged over.

“Minho wants to know what’s taking so long.”

“Two questions,” said Teresa. “One, were those his exact words? And two, are you sure that _you_ didn’t just want to know what was taking us so long?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “No and yes.”

“Are Sonya and that still ignoring Beth?” asked Thomas.

Newt seemed slightly taken aback. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

Thomas gave a weak smile. “So she’s alone now?”

“Oh.” Newt frowned. “You’re right, she is.”

“Teresa’s the one who noticed.” Thomas tilted his head towards her.

“So what are we gonna do?” asked Newt.

Teresa pulled herself up to her full height. “I’m gonna talk to her tomorrow. Invite her to hang out with us.” She hesitated. “If that’s okay?” she added.

“‘Course it is,” said Thomas.

“I’m not gonna pretend to be her biggest fan,” said Newt, “but there’s no point trying to do this if we’re not gonna do it properly.” He gave a small smile. “Who knows? Maybe this little period of isolation will’ve been good for her, and she’ll have learnt not to be such a brat.”

“Maybe you could talk to Sonya as well?” said Thomas. “They _were_ friends, after all. Maybe she’d be willing to talk to her again?”

“I doubt it,” said Newt, nervous laughter spilling out as he did. “She was _really_ angry about what Beth did. She only just shut up about it.” He sighed. “I can try, though.”

Thomas nodded. “Maybe don’t be too blunt about it.” He grinned. “We won’t be able to hang out anymore if your sister’s bitten your head off.”

“So,” said Teresa, cutting off whatever Newt’s response was going to be. “I’ll talk to Beth tomorrow, and Newt’s gonna try and get Sonya to make up with her. That’s the plan?”

The boys nodded.

“Good,” said Teresa. “Now let’s get inside. It’s freezing out here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it feels so weird to me that when i started writing this it really was snowing, and it was pretty much the same time of year as this is currently set. right now there's a heatwave, it's kinda jarring lmao


	66. Chapter 66

“What do you think I should say to her?” Teresa leant back on her chair. “I’m open to suggestions, because I have no idea.”

It was Monday lunchtime, and the group had congregated at the back of the classroom. Thomas and Newt were sitting up against the window, while the rest had pulled over chairs and formed a shape that resembled a circle. Beth had left the room a couple of minutes ago, so there wasn’t any risk of her overhearing them.

“You could ask her how her day’s been,” said Alby.

“She’d probably just glare at me.”

Minho grinned. “You could challenge her to a duel.”

Teresa ignored Siggy’s laughter and sent Minho a tired glare.

“To be fair,” said Newt, staring out of the window instead of looking at the group, “that’s kinda similar to what ended up happening with Brenda, and that worked.”

“Brenda didn’t hate you already. You can’t just fight people to befriend them.” Teresa sighed. “Tom, any ideas?”

Thomas hummed in thought. “You could tell her what you told me? That you don’t like what’s happened to her, and that you don’t want it to continue.”

“But how do I get her to actually listen to me?”

Thomas shrugged. “Corner her in the loos?”

Newt turned around sharply to face the rest of them. “Or you could go grab her right now. She’s outside.”

Teresa stood and grabbed her coat off of the back of her chair. “Wish me luck!”

Grinning in response to the chorus of voices doing just that, she left the room.

Once the classroom door had shut behind her, Minho turned back to the group and tapped Thomas’ knee, getting his full attention. “Okay, shank, real talk, I need to be serious with you for a sec.”

“You? Serious?” Alby shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”

Minho ignored him. “I know that I’ve been going on about you and Teresa. And I know that you’ve said that you don’t like her like that. And fine, you do you. But I really do think she likes you.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “She told me that she doesn’t.”

“She could’ve been lying.”

“Minho, why are you so invested in this?” Thomas crossed his arms and leant against the back of his chair.

“It was mostly a joke at first, yeah, but you’re both my friends. I don’t want to see either of you getting hurt or upset. Which means you need to know that she really is crushing on you because then you can do something about it.”

Thomas felt all trace of his annoyance that they were talking about this again melt away. Minho was trying to help. He wasn’t trying to be insufferable, he just wanted to make sure that they were all going to be okay.

It was sweet. It was also pointless.

Thomas relaxed his body language, unfolding his arms and leaning forwards slightly. “What exactly is it that’s got you so convinced that she likes me?”

“She talked to you alone yesterday.”

“To thank me, and share her concerns about Beth. _And_ that was the most recent incident of her specifically telling me that she _didn’t_ like me.”

“She borrowed your pyjamas.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “She needed something clean to wear. The fact that they were mine didn’t make a difference. She’d have just as happily borrowed yours.”

“She calls you _‘Tom’_ for shuck’s sake!” Minho ran a hand through his hair. “Nobody else calls you that. Not even your mother.”

Thomas sighed. “That doesn’t mean anything. I mean, Newt’s the only one who calls me ‘Tommy’, but that doesn’t mean _he_ has a crush on me. Right?” He turned towards his friend for backup.

Thomas was surprised to see a look of hurt on his face. It disappeared quickly, though, instead being replaced with a smile. A smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, Tommy,” he said. “Nicknames don’t prove anything.”

“You can’t use _Newt_ to disprove that,” said Minho. “Of course he doesn’t have a crush on you. You’re both boys. Boys can’t like boys.”

Of all the things that Thomas had expected to have to do when he’d been sent back in time, explaining the existence of other sexualities had definitely not been one of them. He’d had no idea that Minho hadn’t known that that was a thing, although admittedly it hadn’t come up before.

Thomas had known that he was bisexual since he was 15. He’d told his mother, but pretty much nobody else. He hadn’t been close enough with anyone that he’d felt comfortable with them knowing. Except maybe Chuck, but with him it hadn’t come up, either.

That was something else that could go differently this time around. If these people, his friends, all stuck together through secondary school, and maybe even beyond that, then he could do it. Thomas could actually be completely himself.

It would help if Minho actually knew what that was, though.

“Yes they can,” snapped Siggy.

“Huh?” said Minho, confused at how quickly he’d been shut down.

“Boys can absolutely like boys,” said Siggy. “Or, if they can’t, then someone had better go break the news to my uncle. He and his _boyfriend_ have been together longer than I’ve been alive.”

“But-”

Thomas grinned. He could probably leave most of this to Siggy, but just _had_ to say what had popped into his mind. “Who told you that they couldn’t? Tell me, because I wanna fight them.”

Thomas felt Newt relax beside him. He’d been so focused on Minho these past few seconds that he hadn’t even noticed that he’d tensed up. He let Siggy and Alby continue explaining this _radical new concept_ and turned to face his friend.

During their time together in that bathroom, hiding from that party, Thomas had learnt a lot about the person that Newt had become, and he was sure the opposite was also true. He didn’t want to think about what happened. But Newt wasn’t straight. And if Newt already knew that about himself, which, given his reaction, seemed likely, then Minho’s comment could’ve been really hurtful. Even if it hadn’t been intended that way.

“You good?”

“Yeah, Tommy.” Newt smiled at him, and while it still wasn’t completely genuine, it was more so than the one from earlier.

“Sorry for throwing you under the bus like that.”

“S’okay.” Newt broke eye contact and stared down at where his hands were resting in his lap. He laughed nervously. “It’s not like you were wrong. It’s just a nickname. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Thomas reached out and gave Newt’s hand what he hoped came across as a reassuring squeeze, and turned back to face the rest of the group.

“So you’re telling me,” said Minho slowly, “that boys can get crushes on boys, and girls can get crushes on girls, and this is completely normal?”

“Yes,” said Alby. “Exactly like that.”

Minho took a moment to absorb this new information. Then, his eyes cleared. “Oh,” he said.

“Oh?” Siggy tilted his head questioningly, but his tone of voice showed that he knew exactly what Minho had just realised.

Minho slumped back in his chair and whined. “Why didn’t anyone _tell me_ about this?”

Alby raised an eyebrow. “We just did.”

“You know what I mean, shuckface.”

Siggy laughed. “I’m guessing your whole world view’s shifted, right?”

_“Yes!”_

Newt sat up straight, and smirked at Minho. “Now that you know you’re allowed to like boys, is there something you wanna tell us about Gally?”

Thomas couldn’t help but laugh along with everyone else at the pencil that went flying towards Newt’s head.

“I could _never_ have a crush on that slinthead!”

“Sure,” said Newt, smiling as he placed the pencil on a nearby desk. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

“This conversation wasn’t about me. And it’s not gonna be, either.” He pointed towards Thomas and Newt. “This was about you guys.” He looked towards Alby and Siggy. “What was I saying again?”

“You said that Teresa calls Thomas ‘Tom’, and Thomas said that Newt calls him ‘Tommy’. You said that wasn’t a valid argument, but your reason why was wrong.” Alby replied.

“Are you the referee or something now?” asked Siggy.

Alby shrugged. “Looks like it.”

“Right, yes.” Minho turned back to face Thomas. “You can’t use Newt as a defense like that because-”

Thomas sighed, “He literally just said that the nickname doesn’t mean anything. So Teresa calling me ‘Tom’ doesn’t necessarily mean that _she_ has a crush on me, either.”

Minho looked between Thomas and Newt in silence for a few seconds.

Then, he looked as if a metaphorical lightbulb had gone off over his head. He sat up straight and his eyes lit up. “No, I’m right, you _can’t_ use Newt as a defense against this, because-”

“Minho, shut up.” All trace of humour had vanished from Newt’s voice and he fixed Minho with a hard stare.

Whatever Minho had been about to say didn’t materialise. Instead, his mouth drifted shut.

A few moments of tense silence passed. Thomas had no idea what was going on. Whatever silent argument Newt and Minho were having, Thomas wasn’t privy to any detail of it.

Eventually, Newt relaxed. “Here’s the deal,” he said. “Every time you bring up the Teresa thing from now on, or _anything else_ you’ve been told not to talk about, we’re gonna talk about your obvious crush on Gally instead. Good that?”

“I’ll throw another pencil at you.”

Newt raised an eyebrow and leant back in his chair, saying nothing.

It only took a few seconds for Minho to cave. “Fine,” he said, shoulders slumping forwards. “Good that.”

“So you admit it?” Siggy leant forwards in excitement.

“Siggy,” said Alby. “Leave him be. He’s only just found out that liking boys is a thing. Poor kid’s probably got some feelings to sort through.”

Unsure of how exactly to join the conversation, Thomas spoke over a spluttering Minho to say, “I’m getting the feeling that I’ve missed something.”

Siggy snorted with laughter. “Isn’t that just you all the time?”

“Don’t worry about it, Tommy.” Newt put his hand on Thomas’ shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

Thomas decided to ignore whatever it was that Minho was doing with his face and smiled back. He trusted Newt, and so if Newt told him not to worry about it, then he wouldn’t.

“Wow. What could be so interesting that _none_ of you noticed I’m here?”

Minho whipped around to face Teresa. “How long have you been standing there?”

She shrugged. “Not long. Tom missed something?”

“Okay, good.”

Teresa looked at him questioningly as she sat down.

He shook his head. “I’ll explain later.”

“You’d better.”

“Teresa,” Thomas interrupted, “any luck with Beth?”

Teresa shook her head and looked down at her lap. “I told her that we should just put the whole incident behind us and move on. She didn’t say anything. She just kinda looked through me, you know? So I asked her why, and she said, and I quote,” she looked up at the group and held up her hands to form air quotes, “‘We weren’t on speaking terms anyway.’” She dropped her hands back to her sides. “And then she just turned and walked away.”

Minho reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. “That sucks. At least you tried.”

“Yeah, I know, but I was really hoping that I’d get somewhere with her.”

“Perhaps I could try?” said Thomas.

Alby scoffed. “What makes you think that you’d do any better?”

Thomas shrugged. “Nothing really. But we _do_ sit next to each other, and I’m pretty sure that she doesn’t hate me. I should probably apologise for my part in the lunch money thing, anyway.”

“I don’t see why,” said Newt. “It’s not like you did anything wrong.”

“I _did_ yell at her in front of the whole class. Deserved or not, it wasn’t nice, _and_ it contributed to this situation.”

“When are you gonna try and talk to her?” asked Minho.

“As soon as possible. I don’t want to take any chances.”

Newt and Minho’s nods told him that they understood, and the others chimed in with their own agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just in case it didn't come across properly in the chapter, minho genuinely had no idea that people could be something other than straight, which was why he hadn't caught on to newt's crush. he's caught on now : D


	67. Chapter 67

At the end of the day, Siggy rushed out of the classroom.

“Where’s he running off to?” asked Alby.

Minho grinned. “He’s gone to meet Brenda.”

“Oh,” said Alby. “How come? She knows where the hideout is already, she doesn’t need someone to take her there.”

While Minho and Teresa laughed at him, Newt turned to Thomas with a smile on his face.

“We heading straight there, then?”

Thomas turned to look at the rest of their class as they gradually left the room. “I was hoping to talk to Be-”

Damn.

Thomas had thought that, after Teresa, he’d be done with the people we wanted to talk to leaving school before he had the chance. Clearly, that assumption had been wrong. Beth was nowhere to be seen.

He grabbed his bag and was about to run out of the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him still.

“Tommy,” said Newt, “don’t just disappear on me. What’cha thinking?”

He turned back to face his friend. “If I hurry I can catch her before she gets too far away that I can’t find her.”

Newt smiled. “I can do you one better than that.”

“Huh?”

“It’s that athletics competition today, remember?” Newt withdrew his hand and shrugged. “Sonya told mum this morning that she and her friends were planning to go watch. She  _ also  _ complained, at length, that apparently Mr Janson had invited Beth along as well.”

“So she’s heading to the sports centre?”

“She should be, yeah.” Newt grinned. “See? You should work with others more, instead of just running off on your own. You’d have spent the whole evening wandering the town and you wouldn’t have been able to find her.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Slim it, I know.”

The other three approached, apparently done with their conversation. “What’s the plan?” asked Minho.

“Beth’s gonna go watch the athletics, so I’m gonna try and talk to her there.”

“Okay,” said Minho. “Who’s going with you?”

Teresa winced. “I don’t think she’d be happy at all if more than more than one person tried to talk to her. Even just Tom would probably be pushing it.”

Thomas nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Newt gaped at him in disbelief. “So you’re just gonna go there on your own? Really? Even though you  _ know  _ that-”

Thomas held out a hand to stop him. “Yeah, Newt, I know, but it’ll be okay. It’s a school competition, so there’ll be plenty of people around. You know, teachers? I’m just gonna go there, talk to Beth, probably not even for very long, and then I’ll join you guys at the hideout.”

Newt looked at him dubiously.

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“You won’t talk to any strangers?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You have no faith in me.”

“Okay.” Newt pulled himself to his full height. “So long as you’re careful, and you don’t take any unnecessary risks, and you don’t take too long, and-”

Minho punched Newt in the shoulder, just hard enough to get his attention. “I think he gets it, man.”

Newt shot Minho a quick glare before turning back to Thomas.

“You’re sure about this?”

Thomas nodded.

Newt smiled. “In that case, seeing as we’re still playing detective and all, I expect a full report later tonight.”

Teresa snickered. Minho hissed something at her, while Alby just shook his head. Newt ignored them, so Thomas decided to do the same.

Instead, he nodded once more. “I’ll be right there.” He stepped backwards towards the classroom door.

Newt didn’t let him go far. He grabbed Thomas’ wrist and gave him a sharp tug. Before Thomas could react, Newt wrapped his arms tightly around him and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. “Stay safe, Tommy. Okay?”

Thomas returned the hug. “Don’t worry Newt, I will.”

  
  


It didn’t take Thomas long to get to the Sports Centre. When he got there, the competition hadn’t started yet, so the participating kids were milling around next to the stands.

Thomas immediately saw the group from his class. Gally was leaning over the railings into the stands and talking to Ben. A few rows up were Mr Janson, Harriet, Sonya, and Miyoko. Unlike the others, who were all sitting, Miyoko was standing and was yelling something across the room. She was possibly trying to get the attention of one of the high-jumpers, but Thomas couldn’t be certain.

“Hey!” Gally had looked up from his conversation with Ben and was scowling at Miyoko. “Could you stop being so loud? Half the noise in this place right now is your fault!”

Miyoko dropped down into her seat. “I’m not doing any harm!”

“You’re gonna make us all go deaf!”

“Now, now,” said Mr Janson. “If you’re going to fight then I’m not going to give you any food.” He patted a large, insulated bag that was resting on the seat beside him.

Thomas didn’t pay any attention to their mumbled apologies, instead scanning the stands for Beth.

He caught sight of her without too much difficulty. She was sitting near the back, away from all other school groups, sullenly sipping on a drink. Her gaze appeared to be shifting between her former friendship group and the two boys near the front. Thomas was pretty sure that she hadn’t seen him, though.

He sat in the seat he was standing next to. Approaching her would be all well and good, but he figured that for once he should probably have some idea of what he was going to say ahead of time. He’d gotten lucky with Teresa and Brenda, and he didn’t think his luck would extend to Beth.

He was halfway through planning a good way to start a conversation when he saw her get up from her seat and leave the hall. She took her bag with her.

Frowning, Thomas followed.

Had she decided she didn’t want to watch the competition after all?

No, it quickly became clear that she was just headed for the toilet. And of course she’d take her bag. She wasn’t sitting with anyone else, so nobody would be able to watch her stuff for her.

Thomas stood himself across the hallway from the girls’ toilets. He’d talk to her when she came out. That might even work better, because there were less people around here than in the main sports hall. She might feel more comfortable talking out here than she would in there.

He leant back against the wall.

...

She was taking her time, wasn’t she?

He tapped his foot a few times, looked around to see if there was a clock (there wasn’t), and checked his watch.

What was taking so long?

At the end of the corridor, the fire exit opened, making Thomas jump. He turned to see Mr Janson walking through it.

He froze when he saw Thomas looking at him, but relaxed just as quickly. He pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and grinned.

As he returned it to his pocket, he took a few steps closer, and said, “What are you doing standing out here, Thomas? The races are about to start. Are you waiting for someone?”

“Kinda. I need to talk to Beth about something.”

“Beth?” Mr Janson frowned, and looked back at the fire exit.

Fuck.

“Did she go through there?”

Mr Janson nodded.

Thomas ran past him and pushed the door open.

She wasn’t there.

But what was there was a van.

It was pulling away.

And it belonged to the sandwich company that Jorge worked at.

“Are you alright?” Mr Janson had followed him outside.

There wasn’t time! If the killer had targeted Beth, and still wanted to frame Jorge for it, then she was probably in that van right now!

Thomas turned to his teacher. “Do you have your car with you?”

Mr Janson raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I do, but I don’t see-”

Thomas pointed at the van. “Can we follow that, please? I’ll explain as we go!”

Mr Janson frowned in confusion, but nodded.


	68. Chapter 68

Thankfully, there weren’t many other cars on the road, so the van didn’t have a chance to get lost among them before Mr Janson could follow. Thomas sat in the passenger seat and explained some of what was going on.

“It’s sort of like a game, like we’re playing detective. We pretend that there’s a kidnapper in town, think about who’d get targeted if there really _was_ one, and try and befriend them.” Thomas shrugged, trying to downplay how worried he was. “For all we know we could end up stopping a _real_ kidnapping.”

Mr Janson hummed in approval. “Well, even if it’s just a game, it’s a good idea. I’m assuming that this game of yours is why you worked so hard to help Teresa?”

“It was, at first.” Thomas kept his focus on the van in front of them as he said, “It stopped being a game with her when we realised what was really going on.”

“There you go, then. Your game’s already genuinely helped someone and improved their life.” He glanced over at Thomas. “Thomas,” he said, his voice taking on a more teacher-like quality, “your seatbelt should really be done up.”

“Sorry!”

Thomas tugged at the seatbelt by his side and pulled it over himself.

He tried to click the buckle into place, but it wouldn’t go in.

He tried again.

No luck.

He let out an irritated sigh. He was 29. He shouldn’t have been finding it so difficult to do up a seatbelt.

Mr Janson glanced over again and chuckled. “Sorry about that.” He reached an arm out and deftly fastened the seatbelt shut with one hand. “That’s been playing up for a while now. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed, but just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“It’s not a problem.” He returned both hands to the steering wheel.

Thomas noticed that he’d put gloves on at some point. Come to think of it, it _was_ kinda cold. Thomas patted his pocket, where his own gloves where. He was just about to dig them out when Mr Janson spoke again.

“So, I’m guessing that the reason why you wanted to talk to Beth was because you realised that she was lonely.”

Thomas leant back in his seat. It wasn’t _that_ cold, his hands would live. “Technically, Teresa’s the one who noticed. But yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

Mr Janson smiled. “I think it’s great that you’re being so proactive. It definitely explains why you’ve been so outgoing lately.”

Thomas slumped. He didn’t deserve that praise. “Thanks, but with Beth it’s not being ‘proactive’ so much as it’s cleaning up my own mess. It’s my fault that she’s alone in the first place. If I’d been more careful, then she wouldn’t be a target now.”

Mr Janson tapped a finger on the steering wheel. His glove muffled the sound a little, but the tapping was hard enough that Thomas could still hear it. “And you feel bad about that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You shouldn’t. You didn’t realise at the time what the consequences of your actions would be.” His voice took on a more serious tone. “When you get right down to it, there isn’t any real difference between good deeds and bad ones. There are just deeds, and what results from them, and it’s up to each individual to decide on whether they’re good or not.”

...Where had _that_ come from?

“Okay?” said Thomas, with absolutely no idea where Mr Janson was going with this.

“Take me for instance,” he continued. “Recently I’ve been trying to get close to someone. I’ve tried lots of different ways to do so. At times I’ve been direct, and sometimes I play coy. I’ve even been deceitful. On their own, none of these things are inherently bad. I know _I’ve_ been having fun.”

Thomas latched on to the one thing in all of that that he could actually think up a response to.

“This person you’re trying to get close to, are they like a girlfriend or something?”

Ordinarily, Thomas would’ve felt embarrassed about asking a teacher that question, but Mr Janson laughed good-naturedly before Thomas had a chance to be.

“I can see why you might be thinking that. Either way, it’s all about filling the emptiness inside of a person.” He tapped the steering wheel again.

Thomas found himself wishing that Newt had come along with him to the sports centre. He was sure that the conversation wouldn’t have taken such a weird turn if Newt were here. Or, if it had, Newt would’ve been able to redirect it to somewhere more sensible. They’d have been able to share the experience, at least. He could almost picture Newt sitting in the backseat, raising an eyebrow at what Mr Janson was saying.

As it was, Thomas couldn't wait to tell Newt all about it

Thomas hadn’t responded to the last thing that Mr Janson had said, so they’d both fallen silent. It felt awkward, oppressive, like it was choking him somehow. He had to do something, to say something. Quickly. He couldn’t just let the last few things that Mr Janson had said hang in the air any longer. He couldn’t take it.

He forced a smile onto his face. “Do you want another lollipop?”

Without waiting for a response, Thomas leant forwards and clicked open the glove compartment. He was careful as he did so, not wanting them to spill out onto the floor like they had last time.

And they _didn’t_ spill out onto the floor.

Because there weren’t any lollipops _to_ spill out.

“Huh?” he said to himself as he let the glove compartment fall completely open.

Inside was an umbrella, the manual for the car, and a box of laxative tablets.

No lollipops.

Surely there’d been too many for them all to be eaten in just a week? And if Mr Janson relied on them as much as he said he did, then surely he wouldn’t have let them run out like this.

“You won’t find any in there, Thomas,” said Mr Janson. “After all, this isn’t my car.”


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow...... the previous chapter has the most comments i've ever gotten on a single chapter _ever_. i'm glad you're all enjoying this enough to yell at me over it, all your comments made me smile a lot !!! feel free to yell at me again over this one : D

Not his car?

What was Mr Janson talking about?

It looked like his car. It was the same colour, the same model, and the interior looked exactly the same as the one he’d been in last week.

Except the missing lollipops.

“What do you mean?” Thomas laughed, because Mr Janson must’ve just been being unnecessarily dramatic. He’d done the same thing with the lollipops when Thomas first discovered them. “If this isn’t your car, then where’s yours? Is it in the shop or something?”

Mr Janson didn’t answer Thomas’ question. Instead, he tapped the steering wheel again and said, “I want you to think of your happiest moment. Whatever it is, it’s only temporary. One day it’s bound to be replaced. _Mine_ just was. I think it’s because I put in a lot of effort to get to this point. The more effort you put into something, the more satisfaction you get when things turn out your way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Thomas wasn’t following. What did all that even mean? What connection did it have to the car not being his? Or to the missing lollipops?

Thomas opened his mouth to ask one of his questions. He hadn’t quite decided on which one to ask, and was just planning see which came out first, but was interrupted before he could do so.

“You lied to me earlier, didn’t you Thomas?”

Thomas’ mouth clicked shut. Without waiting for a response, Mr Janson continued talking.

“You told me that you and your friends were _pretending_ that there’s a kidnapper in town. That was a lie. The truth is, you _know_ there’s one. And you’re trying to catch him, or at least prevent him from doing what he’s set out to do.” He chuckled. “At first I couldn’t believe it was possible. Or I suppose I didn’t _want_ to believe it. How could it be that someone was anticipating my every move? How could it be that that person was just a child?”

He hadn’t signalled that he’d wanted to turn, but he did so anyway, while the van they’d been following continued on straight. Thomas twisted in his seat to try and keep sight of it as they drove away.

Mr Janson’s voice sounded sounded almost amicable and comforting as he said, “You don’t need to worry about Beth. She isn’t in that van, I promise.” All trace of kindness disappeared from his voice as he continued. “I realised something was up with you when I saw you following Brenda Rosier on the High Street last Tuesday. I’d been planning to kill her that night, you see? But there you were. I couldn’t exactly act when there’d be a witness who could identify me as the culprit. Looking back, it’s actually pretty funny. Do you remember what we talked about that night?” His laugh was cold. “You asked me for my advice on how to approach and befriend a girl that you didn’t know. I realise now that you were thinking about Brenda. You wanted to steal my prey out from under my nose, and there I was telling you how to do it!”

He glanced over at Thomas, then back at the road. “That was the second time that you’d ruined my plans, and I began to suspect that it wasn’t a coincidence. So on Friday I invited Beth to come along to watch the competition, and I made sure that that information would be able to reach you somehow. You found out through Newt, didn’t you? Because of his sister?” He shrugged. “It doesn’t make any difference to me. Either way, you’d already said that you couldn’t make it to the competition, so if you showed up there then my suspicions would be confirmed. And they were.”

A smile crept onto Mr Janson’s face. “So I gave Beth a drink that I’d laced with a laxative, and I’d already ordered dinner for the kids from Fring Foods, placing my previously chosen scapegoat at the scene. And I must say, Thomas, you played your part perfectly. Everything today went exactly as I’d anticipated, so thank you.”

Thomas’ mind was spinning.

This wasn’t happening.

This _couldn’t_ be happening.

There was no way.

Mr Janson had been so nice, had helped with Teresa, was someone that Thomas trusted. There was no way that he could be the killer!

There must be some mistake.

Except...

It made an uncomfortable amount of sense. He just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

Mr Janson had known about Teresa’s abuse. Just because he’d said that he’d been in contact with Child Protective Services, didn’t mean that he actually had. And if he’d shown up at Teresa’s house one night, especially if she was injured, then of course she’d follow him. She knew him, and trusted him.

Thomas didn’t imagine that it would’ve been too difficult for him to get to be able to target Brenda, either. After all, Thomas had been able to track her routine easily with a just bit of light stalking. A teacher at a neighbouring school had even more power to uncover information.

And then there was Minho.

Thomas had theorised that the killer had known Minho, and known that he was indeed a boy, so had targeted him in order to throw the police off. Mr Janson would’ve also known that Minho’s parents worked late most nights. Minho hated being home alone. He’d told Thomas that much himself. So if Mr Janson had shown up at Minho’s house one day, Minho wouldn’t have thought twice about letting him in. It just wouldn’t have entered Minho’s mind to be suspicious of him.

Mr Janson’s name had been on one of the police’s preliminary lists of suspects. Specifically, the one that Thomas had seen on Vince’s computer. But he’d dismissed that one outright, because it had had every adult that Teresa had had a chance to come into contact with on it, including his own mother.

He realised now that letting his personal feelings interfere with his admittedly brief investigation had been a very stupid thing to do.

Thomas studied Mr Janson’s face. He was looking at the road ahead, expression carefully blank. Thomas could now see the resemblance between him and the man who’d killed his mother, all those weeks ago and all those years in the future. He’d only caught glimpses of him then, and 18 years had made a lot of difference in his appearance, but now that Thomas knew that they were one and the same he could actually see it.

He’d _trusted_ him.

It occurred to Thomas that staying sat in a car with a known serial killer was probably a bad idea. He didn’t care that the car was moving, he’d deal with whatever injuries he’d get by jumping out. He just needed to get away.

Except the buckle wouldn’t undo.

It was jammed.

It wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard he pressed the button or pulled at the seatbelt.

The seatbelt itself was stuck, too. He tried to wriggle out from under it, but couldn’t.

It wouldn’t _move._

He was trapped.

Mr Janson turned his car off of the road, drove it up to the edge of the river, and stopped, leaving the car’s engine running. In this part of town, there was a farm a few fields away, but no other houses. No other cars, either.

They were completely and utterly alone.

Mr Janson rolled down his window and leant out, looking up at the slowly darkening sky. “Huh, would you look at that. It’s started snowing.”

Thomas’ friends were probably excited about that. If it started snowing heavily again, there was a chance they’d get more days off school. That meant they’d have more time to play together. They were probably celebrating the snowfall right that very second.

More than anything, Thomas wished he was there with them.

Mr Janson turned his head to face him. “I’m honestly stunned by how easily you stopped me. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d let me in on how you were able to predict my actions?”

Thomas glared.

Mr Janson sighed. “I didn’t think so. No matter.” He reached into the backseat and pulled a bag onto his lap. “I want you to know that this isn’t revenge. I’ll admit, you’ve caused me a lot of trouble, and it’s been extremely irritating. But I’ve actually come to respect you a great deal.” He leaned over Thomas and rolled his window down. “However, if I’m blocked from my chosen targets, then I need an alternative. It’s nothing personal.”

He undid his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a basketball. He leant down and talked to Thomas through the open window.

“Congratulations, Thomas, you’ve saved the children of this town. I promise not to try to kill any more of them. I’ll finish up teaching this year, and then I’ll move away. All of your friends and classmates are safe, because of you. And I still get to kill someone. I guess you could say that we both got what we wanted.”

With that, Mr Janson reached through the window into the car and released the handbrake. He placed the basketball onto the car’s accelerator, wedging it in place, and the car started to slowly move forwards.

Something inside Thomas snapped, and he started to shout.

He wasn’t keeping track of what he was saying. He wasn’t even thinking about it. Insults, threats, demands to be released. He knew it was all in vain, but had to _try._ All the while he pulled at his seatbelt, trying to loosen it enough that he could slip out from it, but it still wouldn’t move. He tried reaching over, hoping that he could maybe get the ball off of the accelerator, and buy himself some time.

He was too late.

The car tipped and fell into the river.

Icy water started rushing in through the open windows. He didn’t have long before he’d be completely submerged. He gave up on yelling and focused on breathing, trying desperately to ignore the cold spreading over him where the water was seeping through his clothes to his skin.

He took one last breath before the final air pocket vanished.

How long could a person survive holding their breath underwater? Not long, that’s for sure. Would the cold kill him first? When he eventually ended up breathing the water in, would he be conscious for it? Or would he have already passed out?

For once, Thomas didn’t want to know the answers to his questions.

He didn’t want to die.

He wasn’t _done._ He might’ve saved Teresa, Minho, and Brenda from the killer, from _Janson,_ but that wasn’t it! He was supposed to get another chance to live his life! He was supposed to be there for his friends! He was supposed to be there for-

His mind stopped short, not wanting to consider it.

It didn’t matter what he was supposed to be able to do.

He wasn’t going to be able to do it.

_He didn’t want to die._


	70. Chapter 70

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Music.

  
  
  


Soft music. Coming from...

  
  


Somewhere.

 

His eyelids felt heavy. It was almost as if they’d been glued shut.

But he could see light shining through them. If his eyelids had been glued shut, then surely a better job would’ve been done of it, right?

That made sense.

Didn’t it?

 

He tried to open his eyes.

The light was  _ bright. _

He could only squint. Whether it was the light, or that they physically wouldn’t open any further, he couldn’t tell.

He was in a bed? In a room?

Where was he?

Where was that music coming from?

“Thomas?”

He tried to move his head to the side, towards the voice. He couldn’t

He moved his eyes instead. To the best of his ability.

Why was it so hard to move?

There was a woman standing by his bed.

No, wait.

He knew her.

_ His mother  _ was standing by his bed.

She was....

Crying?

Why was she crying?

“Good morning, Thomas.”

He looked away, towards the window.

His eyes had mostly adjusted to the light by now.

At least, they’d adjusted enough that he could tell that it definitely wasn’t morning. It was early evening.

What the shuck was going on?

 


	71. Chapter 71

It was two weeks before he was actually told anything.

Granted, it was two weeks before he could manage to stay awake and aware for a reasonable amount of time.

The days bled into each other. He was dimly aware of his surroundings changing from the confusing familiarity of the room he’d first woken up in to the harsh light of a hospital. Lots of people - doctors, presumably, but he couldn’t be entirely sure - came to see him, to speak to him, to prod and poke and take blood and adjust IVs.

Two weeks.

Then he was finally properly awake.

When it became clear that he wasn’t about to slip under again, the number of people constantly coming in and out of his hospital room drastically reduced. Eventually, he was left with just his mother and one young doctor.

The doctor introduced herself as Dr Rosier. Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was, or why.

“Could you turn your head to the left for me?”

His neck felt stiff, and his head did _not_ want to move.

He did it anyway.

Slowly, he was able to gradually turn his head until his left cheek pressed up against the pillow.

Dr Rosier’s smile shone through in her voice as she said, “And now could you try to the right?”

It took him even longer this time as his head had further to turn, but he was able to do it.

When he’d returned his head to the centre, she asked him to lift his arms as high as he could. He managed to get them about a foot off the bed before he couldn’t go any higher. He let them flop back down.

Dr Rosier hummed in approval as she wrote something down. “That’s great, Thomas!” She looked up at him. “It might not seem like much, but the amount of movement you’re capable of at the moment is impressive, considering.”

His eyes could move completely fine, so he used those alone to glance between the doctor and his mother. They didn’t understand his unspoken question, so he was forced to try and speak.

“Con...sid.....ering?”

The smile on Dr Rosier’s face dimmed. “Has no one told you?”

He didn’t want to physically shake his head or shrug, so once again he relied on his eyes alone to convey his emotions.

It seemed to actually work this time, but he immediately found himself regretting it a little. His mother’s expression filled with sadness, while Dr Rosier’s smile disappeared entirely, demeanour morphing into one of pure professionalism.

“Thomas, you’re aware that you’ve recently woken up from a coma, aren’t you?”

He forced himself to nod a tiny amount, just enough for his movement to be noticed.

“Do you know how _long_ you were in a coma for?”

He shook his head. Again, the movement was tiny, but it was enough.

Dr Rosier looked almost pained as she said, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but you’ve been in a coma for 15 years.”

Thomas felt his eyes widen in shock. He wanted to bolt upright, to yell, to do _something._ But when he tried to move he could only manage to move a few centimeters before collapsing back onto the bed, his body screaming at him to stop.

Dr Rosier immediately flipped the file she was holding, _his_ file, back open and wrote something else down. “Your range of movement is seriously impressive! It’s probably all thanks to your mother. It says here that she’s been spending at least four hours a day exercising your limbs so that your muscles wouldn’t atrophy.”

He was finding it a little easier to move his head now, so he looked over at his mother and said, “Really?”

She gave him a small smile. “Which part are you asking about?”

“All.”

He realised that his voice sounded completely different from what he was used to. For some reason it hadn’t surprised him, like he was already used to it sounding like this.

Weird.

“Yes, kiddo, it’s really been 15 years. And yes, I’ve been spending my free time moving your arms and legs around for you.”

He let himself smile back at her. “Thanks, mum.”

Dr Rosier sat down on the chair on the other side of Thomas’ bed.

“I have some questions I need to ask you. Are you okay to talk?”

Thomas thought about it for a second. “Think so,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. “I understand if this is difficult for you, but do you think you could tell me what your newest memory before your coma is?”

“Huh?” said Thomas, not understanding the question.

Thankfully, Dr Rosier seemed to realise that her wording hadn’t been great. “Let me rephrase. What’s the last thing you can remember?”

He let himself relax fully as he thought about it.

The last thing he remembered....

What was it?

He couldn’t be sure, not completely, but it was the only thing coming to mind.

“Walking to school. Minho raced me?”

He didn’t need to look at his mother or at Dr Rosier to know that that _wasn’t_ the last thing that had happened to him.

He could feel it for himself.

He was missing something. Something huge, if his gut feeling was anywhere close to being correct.

The look on his mother’s face confirmed it, though. As did Dr Rosier’s, for that matter.

Why did she look so familiar? Thomas couldn’t think of where he’d seen her before. Especially if he’d been in a coma for 15 years, as they’d said.

He looked down at where his hands were resting on top of the sheets. They were definitely bigger than before. But again, like with his voice being deeper, he wasn’t all that surprised to see them like this.

If anything, his lack of surprise and confusion was in and of itself surprising and confusing. He’d missed 15 years. Everything had changed. Even his own shucking _body_ had changed. He should’ve been klunking his pants or something.

But he wasn’t.

And, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll want to make sure you're subscribed to the series, because there are some oneshots coming very soon : D


	72. Chapter 72

Over the next few days, Thomas worked on regaining his full range of movement in his neck, jaw, and arms. The more he tried, the easier it became. Before too long he was able to talk and gesture as he wished, almost as if he’d never been asleep.

He was encouraged by this. His doctors seemed to be genuinely surprised that he’d been able to do so much so soon.

He’d not had anywhere near as much luck with his legs, though. _They_ still weren’t moving very much at all.

Oh well.

It wasn’t like he’d be needing to run anywhere anytime soon.

One day, around three weeks after he’d first woken up, he was asked if he was willing to see any visitors.

His answer came instantly.

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m good to have visitors. I’d love to!”

The nurse left the room, returning a few minutes later with two men in tow. They gave Thomas’ mother, who was sitting next to the window on the far side of the room, a quick smile in greeting before they turned their attention fully to Thomas.

One of the men was Asian, while the other was taller, with blond hair, and was standing so that he was leaning his weight more heavily on one leg than the other.

It only took Thomas a few seconds to realise who they were.

“Look who finally decided to wake up.” Minho grinned. “Remember us?”

“Min...” murmured Newt warningly.

Thomas pretended to think, then smirked. “You’re Alby and Siggy, right?”

Minho let out a bark of laughter. “Who’d have thought that all it’d take for you to finally make a good joke would be a coma?”

Newt rolled his eyes, and smiled at Thomas. “It’s good to see you.”

“Oh, please, you saw him plenty.” Minho said, sitting on the end of Thomas’ bed.

“It’s good to see you _awake._ ” Newt amended as he made his way to the empty chair next to Thomas’ head.

Thomas smiled up at them both. “It’s good to see you guys too.”

It really was. Of course, he was always happy to see his friends, but it felt different this time. He couldn’t explain it to himself, but when he’d seen them at the door, a knot of worry that he hadn’t even known was there had dissolved, leaving him with a feeling that he could only describe as relief.

If he was being entirely honest with himself, his reaction to seeing them was pretty strange. Seeing them now, as adults, had shocked him a lot more than the fact that he himself was that age too.

It suddenly hit him that he and his friends were all 26.

He decided not to worry about any of that for now.

“How’ve you been these last few weeks?” asked Minho.

“You mean since I woke up?” He waited for Minho to nod. “I couldn’t stay awake properly until about a week ago, so I don’t really know about before that. This week’s been kinda boring, though.”

“Hospitals are the worst,” agreed Minho. “But, hey! We’re here now! You’re not bored anymore!”

Thomas grinned. “Definitely not.”

He looked up at Newt to see that he was staring at him, a look of disbelief on his face. In that moment, Thomas could practically feel Newt’s mind racing. There was clearly a lot that he wanted to say. Eventually, however, he settled on, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Thomas reached up and took his hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Seriously, Tommy! We all thought-” He cut himself off.

Thomas squeezed his hand again. “I’m here. Don’t worry.”

Newt laughed, but Thomas couldn’t sense much humour in it. “Don’t worry? Really? Of course I’m gonna worry. I’ve spent my whole life worrying about you.”

“15 years isn’t your _whole_ life.”

“True,” Minho cut in, “but he also knew you _before_ you decided the waking world wasn’t good enough for you anymore. You gave him plenty reason to worry back then all on your own.”

Thomas winced. “I’m sorry?”

It was Newt’s turn to squeeze Thomas’ hand. “S’okay. You don’t need to apologise. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Not my fault that you worried, or not my fault that I ended up in a coma?”

Newt shrugged, but didn’t verbally respond.

Minho and Newt exchanged a look. Thomas couldn’t be certain of what exactly that look meant, but they seemed to be silently agreeing on something.

“Thomas,” said Newt, before stopping and shaking his head. “Tommy,” he corrected, “there’s something tha-”

“Would either of you like me to get you something?” said Thomas’ mother, making all three of them jump. “Coffee maybe?”

Minho shook his head. “Not for me.”

“No thanks Mary, I’m good.”

“Okay.” She stood. “Newt, could I have a word with you outside?”

Newt let out a small sigh, released his hold on Thomas’ hand, and stood. He followed Thomas’ mother out of the room.

He was limping.

As Thomas watched him go, he tried to think of all the reasons why Newt could possibly be limping, but couldn’t come up with any that made sense.

“He’s okay,” said Minho.

“Huh?”

“You just noticed the limp, right?” Minho leant back so he was lying across the foot of the bed. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. He’s alright.”

“What happened?”

Minho waved a hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t stress about it.”

“Why’s mum talking to him in private? What was he about to say?”

“He was about to ask you how much you remember about the time leading up to the start of your giant nap. She’s probably telling him not to.”

“Why would she do that?”

Minho shrugged. “Because she thinks it’s kinder? Brenda already told us you didn’t remember anything, so your mum probably thinks it’s best to leave it alone.”

“Brenda?”

Minho winced. “Sorry. Dr Rosier told us.”

The door to Thomas’ room opened and Newt and Thomas’ mother reentered. Newt sat back down in his chair. Thomas’ mother crossed over to the windowsill where her bag was and fiddled with it for a few moments, before taking her newly acquired coffee over to where she’d been sitting before.

Whatever Newt had wanted to say before stepping outside was abandoned. The rest of Newt and Minho’s visit was filled by Thomas asking about what they and their friends had been doing recently.

They told him that Alby worked in some sort of office, but that they weren’t a hundred percent sure of what his exact job was. Minho suggested he was part of the mafia, and Newt’s reaction - performatively annoyed but not-so-secretly amused - told Thomas that this joke wasn’t new.

Siggy was working as a chef at a nearby restaurant. At some point during everyone’s school career, Siggy had earned the nickname ‘Frypan’ for himself due to his love and talent for cooking. Thomas was glad to hear that he was following his dreams.

Minho and Newt themselves were running their own photography and graphic design business.

“Isn’t that really hard?” asked Thomas.

“Yeah, at times. But Minho takes amazing photos and I’ve always loved art, so we figured why not? And it’s working out for us so far.”

Thomas beamed. “That’s great!”

Newt also told Thomas, pride shining through in his voice, that Sonya had indeed become a lawyer as she’d wanted to. Thomas couldn’t recall exactly _when_ he’d been told that, but he knew that he’d known about it. Which didn’t make any sense, but again, he wasn’t going to worry. He told Newt to pass on his congratulations.

None of it was what Minho and Newt _really_ wanted to talk about. That much was painfully obvious.

But his mother had decided they weren’t allowed to discuss it.

He’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t annoying, but he knew that she was only looking out for him. She was doing what she thought was best.

And if she really didn’t want him to remember what happened, then it was probably best that he didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you didn't see, i uploaded a new [oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602391) in this series the other day! it's newt's pov of chapters 67-69 : D


	73. Chapter 73

A couple more weeks past, and eventually Thomas’ continuous complaining to every nurse and doctor he saw finally got Dr Rosier to break.

“Fine! I’ll see about getting you a motorised wheelchair. Then you can explore the hospital to your heart’s content, and find somebody _else_ to tell you’re bored instead of me. Sound good?”

“That would be amazing.”

A few days later he had his wheelchair. He needed help getting in and out of it, of course, but beyond that he had significantly more freedom.

Minho, who’d been visiting a lot, found the whole thing extremely entertaining.

“You mean you whined at them so much that they fast tracked getting that for you, just so you’d shut up?”

Thomas shrugged. “Yeah, they did.”

He was pretty sure that Minho’s laughter could be heard for miles around.

His other friends came to visit as well.

Alby came along with Newt and Minho one day, and he straight up refused to tell him what his job was. Apparently he enjoyed hearing his friends’ conspiracy theories so much that he had absolutely no intention of ever answering any of their questions. Thomas thought that was fair enough, and personally couldn’t wait to join in.

Siggy - Frypan - came alone. He smiled warmly at Dr Rosier as he passed her in the doorway, and Thomas felt like he _knew_ what that look meant, but also _didn’t,_ and it bugged him. The answer probably lay in his missing memories. Oh well, it was good to see him again anyway.

Neither Alby nor Frypan tried to talk to Thomas about what happened, but unlike with Newt and Minho, they hadn’t seemed to want to. Thomas could tell that Newt was still stopping himself from saying things whenever he visited. Sometimes Thomas almost didn’t mind that he couldn’t remember, but he wished that Newt would just say whatever it was that was on his mind.

He started to ask about when he could start physical therapy for his legs. He was promised that he could start soon, but wasn’t given a specific date.

On a particularly sunny day, Thomas found himself sitting in the hospital gardens. He’d discovered that there was a simple pleasure in just watching the world go by, and he was enjoying it a lot more than he’d initially expected to.

“Tom?” came a voice from behind him.

He turned to see a young woman, with pale skin and dark hair. She was holding a bundle of blankets to her chest.

No, not a bundle of blankets.

A _baby._

Thomas nodded to invite her to join him. He knew that he had no good reason to, because they’d hardly ever talked, but he’d recognised her instantly.

He fought not to start crying with relief that she was there (and seriously, what was _that_ all about?) as he said, “Hey Teresa.”

They found a bench so that she could sit and rest the baby on her lap.

“I looked for you in your room, but your mum said you were out here. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course I don’t mind! It’s not like I was doing anything anyway. How’ve you been?”

“Are you asking about the last few days, or the last few years?”

Thomas laughed. Talking to her felt easy, for some reason. “Whichever you like. Both?”

Teresa grinned. “Well I finally got a full night’s sleep last night, which is why you’re graced with my presence today.”

“Has this one been causing trouble?” Thomas peered at the baby. “They look like a little angel to me.”

“Oh, she is! But only during the day.” Teresa smiled down at the baby. “Her name’s Diana, but Minho insists on calling her Deedee.”

“Wait, Minho?”

Teresa looked back up at Thomas and let out a small laugh. “He didn’t tell you?” She shook her head in fond exasperation. “He probably wasn’t sure how, to be fair.”

“What didn’t he tell me?”

“Minho’s her father.”

Thomas felt like his soul lit up with joy when he heard that. “No way! Really?”

She nodded.

“So you two are together?”

She nodded again, her smile growing as she did so. “We got married about two years ago.”

“Tell me everything.”

She laughed good-naturedly.

“C’mon, Teresa! I can’t believe I missed this! How long have you been together?”

“Since we were 17.”

“Whoa, that long?”

“Yep.” The smile slowly slipped from her face. “We felt really bad about it though. There we were, being happy and doing things like getting married and having a kid, all while you were still stuck in a coma.” She looked down at the child in her lap and said, “It was like we were leaving you behind.”

“Hey, look at me.” He waited for her to do so. “That’s completely wrong! I’d never have forgiven you if you’d spent the last 15 years standing still and _waiting_ for something that might never have happened. Any of you. I’m glad you lived your life the way _you_ wanted to.”

She shrugged. “I still feel guilty. It’s my fault that you-”

“No, stop.” Thomas held up a hand to stop her talking. “Whatever happened, I’m sure that it was because of a choice that _I_ made. Alone. It wasn’t your fault in the slightest. And if you’ve been spending the last decade and a half under the impression that it was, then sorry, but you’re really dumb.”

She seemed surprised for a moment, but quickly relaxed. “Of course you’d say that. I don’t know what else I expected.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Okay, Tom, I’ll believe you on this one.”

Thomas looked at Deedee. The baby was awake, but quiet, staring at him curiously with big blue eyes.

“I can’t believe Minho didn’t tell me. I mean, I could tell there was _something_ he wanted to say, but I had no idea this would be it. How old is she?”

“Seven months.”

“I love her already, by the way.”

“Do you want to hold her?”

Thomas shook his head. “Really, I’d love to, but it’s not a good idea. I can control my arms most of the time but they still sometimes decide not to work. Do not hand me a baby any time soon.”

“Duly noted. Deedee shall stay right here.”

They talked for a long while. Teresa told Thomas all about the tech company she worked at, and Thomas told her about how _thrilling_ his time in hospital had been.

Eventually, though, Deedee got hungry and Teresa had to go. Thomas made sure to tell her that she could come back any time. _With_ Minho, if they wanted. Teresa had laughed at that, and said that she’d pass the message on.

He wasn’t sure _why_ Teresa had been so easy to talk to, but she had. He’d really enjoyed talking to her. As far as he could remember, he’d barely spoken to her in class. They hadn’t been friends.

But apparently they had been? At some point in his missing memories, Teresa had become close with Thomas and his other friends. Close enough that she’d ended up blaming herself for whatever happened.

Hang on...

Hadn’t his mother asked people not to talk about that?


	74. Chapter 74

It was official.

Thomas hated keeping things from his mother.

Not that he was actually keeping anything from her. Not really. But the weight of what he’d noticed pressed down on him, and was at the forefront of his mind every time he spoke to her. He wondered if she could feel it too.

A few days after Teresa’s visit, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“You didn’t tell Teresa that she wasn’t allowed to talk about what happened, did you?”

Thomas’ mother looked up from the book she was reading.

“I’m sorry?”

“You told Newt and Minho not to talk about it. Maybe the others, too. But you didn’t tell Teresa.”

She closed her book and rested in on her lap. “You’re right.”

“Why?”

She looked pained. “When I told the boys not to talk about it, it was because I wanted to spare you from being made to think about something that could hurt you. But after they’d left I couldn’t help but feel like I’d made a mistake. They didn’t get to say what they really wanted to say.” She smiled apologetically. “I wasn’t sure if they’d passed the message on or not, and when I saw Teresa looking for you with little Deedee in tow, I couldn’t bear the thought of telling her. Either way, I’m glad she decided to ignore me.”

Thomas smiled. He wasn’t angry. “Me too. She didn’t go into detail or anything, but she sounded like she blamed herself. I’m glad I was able to set her straight.”

His mother nodded, and reached for her bag. She pulled a slim, black plastic wallet out from it and handed it to Thomas. “Newt gave me this the first time he and Minho visited after you woke up. He said that it was for you, if you ever wanted to know more about what happened.”

Thomas held the wallet in his hand. It was unmarked, looking completely innocent and unassuming. But it wasn’t. “Did you look through it?”

She chuckled. “No. He probably wouldn’t have wanted me to. To be honest, I’d nearly forgotten about it. I’m not sure if I’d intended to give it to you or not. He said that he’d understand if I decided to just throw it away.”

“But you’re giving it to me now?”

She nodded. “It’s yours. He made it for you. The decision to read it or not should also lie with you.”

Thomas tightened his grip on it. “I’m gonna read it.”

“Would you like to do that now?”

Thomas nodded.

His mother stood. “I’ll go get myself something from the cafe, leave you to it. I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay.”

She bent over and kissed his forehead before leaving the room.

Thomas took a few seconds to stare at the wallet in his hands. Then, he popped it open and pulled the contents out.

There were two documents. One was made up of lots of sheets of paper that had been stapled together. It looked like a compilation of news articles. The other document was only a couple of sheets, and looked like it was a typed letter.

Thomas decided to read the letter first.

  


_Dear Tommy,_

_Before I write anything else, I need to tell you how happy I am that you’re awake. I’ve probably told you this a million times already, but it’s the truth._

_I don’t know if you’re ever going to read this. There’s a good chance you won’t. But, there’s also a good chance you will, and I want this to be as helpful as possible for you if you want to know more about what happened to you._

_The main purpose of the contents of these documents are to fill you in about what happened on March 14th in our last year of primary school. The bundle of articles tell the story as the press knew it, but here’s a more concise and comprehensive version, with some extra details that couldn’t be found in the news._

_On that day, you, aged 11, followed Beth to an athletics competition at our town’s local sports centre. I’m the one who told you where she’d be that evening. The bus driver was the last person to clearly remember seeing you. Even now I could kick myself for not going with you that day. I shouldn’t have let myself be talked out of it. Maybe then this wouldn’t have happened._

_You were found upstream in a local river in the passenger seat of a car that was two thirds submerged, front end facing down. This was at around 5pm. A vet who was on her way home from a nearby farm spotted the car. It’s sheer dumb luck that she found you. When she shone a torch into the car, she thought that she could see a human head moving. So, despite the danger, she jumped into the river. The ‘head’ she’d seen turned out to just be a basketball, but she discovered_ you _in the passenger seat. She got some scissors from her car and cut you out of your seatbelt, which had been tampered with so that it wouldn’t come unstuck._

 _At this time, you were in a state of cardiopulmonary arrest with a body temperature of less than 28_ _°C. To put it bluntly, you were on the brink of death._

_The police and paramedics arrived on the scene approximately 25 minutes after you were discovered. Considering the remoteness of the area, that’s a very rapid response._

_The doctors theorised that the low water temperature actually saved your life. Your oxygen supply was cut of because of the water, so you should have suffocated or drowned. But because of the cold, you also had rapid onset hypothermia, so your brain went into a state of suspended animation. They think. To be honest, nobody’s a hundred percent sure_ how _exactly you survived. Just that you did._

_You spend a month in the ICU before being transferred to the general ward. The reason we were given for this was that your condition had ‘stabilised’. After being in the hospital for three months, you were, and again I’m being blunt, a vegetable. Your doctor even suggested taking you off life support. It was a rural hospital, and they weren’t equipped to handle a patient that needed extended care. I’m pretty sure that the high cost of caring for you was also part of it._

_Your mother refused, of course. She told that doctor to go fuck himself. It was pretty glorious to watch._

_In July of the next year, you were transferred to a hospital in the city that actually had long term care facilities. You spent nearly three years there, before being moved into an apartment with your mother, the same one as now, and continued treatment there. Your mum rented an artificial respirator, and the cost of your treatment went down compared to staying in hospital._

_You stayed like that for nine more years, until one day you suddenly started breathing on your own, and your brainwaves started to actually resemble sleep. But you still didn’t wake up. Not until now._

_The presence of the basketball, the stuck seatbelt, and the lack of a driver, led to what happened being investigated as an attempted murder. The scope of the investigation was broad. The police questioned everyone who could’ve possibly met you even once. The car’s owner (who’d reported it as stolen a week before), the vet who found you, your teachers, the staff at the sports centre, your mother, the rest of our parents, and surely more that I’m forgetting right now. But they couldn’t pin it down to any one suspect. There wasn’t any evidence._

_Ironically, what happened to you proved once and for all that there wasn’t actually any ‘playing’ involved in what we’d come to call ‘playing detective’. I already believed you, but this incident was complete proof that there really was a criminal acting behind the scenes._

_I tried to tell the police about the killer, but they ignored me. One cop even told me that I’d read too many detective novels. Being disregarded like that, especially when what I knew could’ve helped in getting justice for what happened to you, was really frustrating._

_The police did believe me about one thing, though. I saw Jorge Fring cleaning out a container at Fring Foods while the rest of us walked to the hideout that day. My testimony was the only thing that backed up his alibi. I think he would’ve been blamed if it weren’t for that. You were right about him being an easy target to pin the blame on._

_No one’s ever been arrested for your attempted murder. Not the real culprit, nor someone he’s framed._

_I think your presence derailed the killer’s plans._

_We visited you a lot. At first, Teresa, Minho, and I visited you every day, while the others came as much as they could. We couldn’t visit as often once you were moved to the city, but we still came a lot. We always made sure to make it out there for you and Teresa’s birthdays._

_The others told me to keep it a secret, but we’ve all been raising money to help your mother out. That’s me, Minho, Alby, Frypan, Teresa, Brenda, Gally, Ben, Sonya, and all her friends (including Beth). We’ve been doing this since we started secondary school. Don’t tell them I told you, okay?_

_I’ve probably told you this in person by the time you read this, but Sonya really did become a lawyer like she wanted to. She, Minho, and I have been recently been collaborating with one of your mum’s old coworkers to try and track down the killer. We haven’t had much luck yet, but I’m sure that we can do it._

_Does all this sound like I’m expecting you to thank me? I don’t. I never do, or did, and you already promised not to thank me for stuff so don’t you dare try it._

_Back then, you were our hero. We’re all where we are now because we wanted decided to follow you, and fight alongside you. At least, I know I am. I want you to know that._

_Maybe I’m just writing this for me. Maybe all this is going to do is upset you, when you’re supposed to be focusing on your recovery. I don’t even know._

_If I’m being completely honest, this isn’t the first letter I’ve written to you. I think I wrote the first one half a year after it happened. Writing to you pretty much became a diary of sorts. It helped me process everything, I guess. I still have all of them. They vary wildly in length, and some of them are, no joke, a mess. It’s been rough, growing up without you. If you catch me in a good mood, I_ might _let you read a couple, but don’t count on it._

_I was overjoyed when I heard that you’d woken up. When I got the message from your mother, I couldn’t stop crying. Your return makes me happier than anything._

_Welcome home, Tommy._

_Your friend,_

_Newt Ross._

  


Thomas cried. He couldn’t help it. He hadn’t realised how much what had happened to him had affected those around him. How much it had impacted their lives.

From his perspective, he’d just skipped 15 years. But everyone else had had to live through them, day by agonisingly slow day. All while not knowing whether or not he’d ever wake up. He couldn’t imagine what that must’ve been like. He didn’t want to think about how he’d have coped if it had been one of his friends instead of him. He wasn’t sure if he’d have _coped_ at all.

But there was something else.

Newt’s letter talked about a killer, that Thomas had apparently known about in the weeks preceding the Incident. Reading about it felt familiar, as if he already knew about it, but he still didn’t remember anything that had happened.

How would he have known about there being a killer, if the police had no idea?

Thomas went to put the letter and news articles back inside the wallet, when he noticed something else in there.

Two more things, actually.

He pulled out the two sheets of paper to discover that they were drawings.

The first was covered in random doodles. There was hardly any white space left on the paper. The doodles were of all sorts of different things, as if the artist, as if _Newt_ , had simply drawn whatever had entered his mind or had been suggested, no matter how wacky. On the back, Newt had written a note.

 

_We drew this together on the first Wednesday after your memory stops. You had it up on your wall. I thought you might like to see it again  :D_

 

Newt had been absolutely correct. Thomas might’ve had no memory of it being drawn, but it still brought a smile to his face.

The other piece of paper was entirely covered in lots of clocks. Some were realistically drawn, while others looked more cartoonish, and they were all different shapes and sizes. It looked good. _Really_ good. He turned it over to see if there was a note.

 

_Am I right?_

 

Thomas frowned in confusion.

What was _that_ supposed to mean?


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy results day!! have some happiness!!

Thomas stared at the note on the back of the clock-drawing, hoping that it would start to make sense if he looked at it for longer. It didn’t. If anything, he made himself even _more_ confused.

After a few minutes he heard a knock at the door. He quickly but carefully slid the papers back into the wallet and looked up at who was standing in the doorway.

“Hey, is it okay we stopped by?”

Thomas grinned. “Of course! I’m literally never going to turn you guys away.”

Minho and Newt walked in and sat in their usual places; Minho at the foot of Thomas’ bed, and Newt in the chair by Thomas’ head.

Minho nodded at the now-closed wallet. “What’s that?”

“Oh.” Thomas looked up at Newt. “It’s, uh...”

“I put together a file explaining what we know about what happened.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing the ban on talking about it got lifted then?”

Thomas shrugged. “I still don’t remember anything.” He stared down at the wallet, lying on his lap. “It was weird reading through, like I knew what you were talking about, but also I didn’t. If that makes any sense at all.”

Newt reached down and picked the wallet up, passing it to Minho. Minho put the wallet on the wheeled table that was currently stationed at the end of the bed.

“You don’t have to worry about it now,” said Newt. “It’s for you, for whenever you want to think about it. Right now you need to be focusing on recovering.”

“I’ve got a question about what you wrote, though.”

“Just one?” Minho grinned.

Thomas rolled his eyes at him and turned his attention back to Newt. “Ignoring all the important stuff in there, and there was a lot, but you mentioned Gally and Ben? Why? I thought Gally hated us, and we never really talked to Ben.”

Minho let out an embarrassed laugh. “Gally and I sorted ourselves out pretty sharpish after you were hospitalised. You and Newt had already said it, but we were blowing everything way out of proportion.” He shrugged. “I guess we got scared by what happened to you. It suddenly wasn't guaranteed that we’d all be there the next day, you know? And we didn’t want to hate each other anymore. Of course, wherever Gally went, Ben followed, so we ended up friends with him too.”

“You dated Gally for a bit, didn’t you Min?”

Minho pointed at Newt as he said, “Yeah, for like a month when we were 15, so it barely counts, shut up.”

Thomas let a smile onto his face. “You and Gally?”

“Shut _up._ ”

“I’d just like to state, for the record, that I saw everything about that relationship coming from a mile off.” Newt grinned, and turned his head towards Thomas. “I knew they liked each other before either of them did.”

“And you also knew it wouldn’t last?” Thomas could believe that Newt had noticed what the people actually involved in the situation hadn’t, but that part seemed a little far-fetched, even to him.

“To be fair, I didn’t predict it would be over as quickly as it was, but I _did_ know they wouldn’t be together forever or anything like that.” Newt shrugged. “Maybe they’d have had more of a shot if Ben hadn’t existed.”

“Ben?”

Minho laughed, but didn’t offer any additional information.

Newt rolled his eyes at Minho, and smiled at Thomas. “Yes, Ben. Did no one tell you yet?”

Thomas shook his head.

“Ben’s been smitten with Gally since even before your coma. Minho was the first person other than me who noticed.”

Minho cleared his throat loudly. “I think everyone noticed, actually. I was just the only one willing to _do_ something about it.”

Newt scoffed. “In what universe is going up to someone and saying _‘You’re in love with my boyfriend, aren’t you?’_ an acceptable thing to do?”

“He _said_ that?” asked Thomas.

“He did indeed,” said Newt. “It’s a good thing it was just the three of us in the art room that lunchtime, because I honestly think Ben would’ve started crying if anyone else had heard him. He was upset enough as it was.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it? I got my answer.”

Newt shook his head in mock-despair. “No tact. None whatsoever. I’m _still_ ashamed of you.”

Minho rolled his eyes and took over telling the story. “He told me that yes, he was, but he wasn’t going to try and get between us because it would be a shitty thing to do. Wait, you’re good with swearing, right?” Thomas nodded. “Right, so I was like fuck that, Gally and I’ve been together three weeks, that’s nothing, you’ve been pining over him since we were 10, this shit has got to stop. So I dragged him over to Gally and told Ben to tell him what he’d just told me, and Gally was _floored_ because he felt the same but didn’t think that Ben liked him back. Because he’s an idiot. And I told them to have fun, and that was that.”

“They’ve been together ever since,” Newt cut in. “Gally was complaining that really, he and Ben should’ve gotten married before Minho and Teresa did because they’ve been together longer.

“Oh, yeah, that’s another thing.” Thomas glared at Minho. “How come I had to find out that you were married with a kid from said wife showing up with said kid, when I’d seen you plenty before then? You could’ve said something, you know.”

Minho had the good grace to look slightly ashamed of himself. “Sorry. I know I should’ve said. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Thomas dropped the stern act and grinned again. “I’m really happy for you both.”

“Really? You sure?” He smirked. “I was thinking you’d be mad that I stole your girlfriend or-”

“Minho,” said Thomas calmly, “I will skin you.”

Minho laughed. “You’d have to catch me first.”

“As soon as I get through physical therapy it’s over for you.”

Minho looked over to Newt. “Dude, you gotta help me. He’s gonna skin me.”

Newt shook his head, laughter escaping as he spoke. “Can’t, sorry. You’re gonna have to deal with this one yourself.”

Thomas looked up at Newt. For once, he didn’t look like he was holding anything back. He was laughing freely, and appeared to be genuinely having fun. He looked happy.

Thomas wanted him to never stop smiling again.

“What about you?” he asked. “Have you been in any relationships while I’ve been out?”

Newt’s laughter died away, but his smile did not. Thomas couldn’t help but feel relieved that his question hadn’t ruined Newt’s good mood. He had no idea why it would’ve done, but he was relieved nonetheless.

“Yeah,” said Newt. “I had a couple of boyfriends in school. Nothing all that serious, and none of them lasted. I’ve been single for a while now.”

“No girls?”

Newt’s smile softened. “No girls.”

“That by choice, or?”

Newt chuckled. “Yes, Tommy. I’m gay.”

“Cool, good that, there anyone else I should know about who isn’t straight?”

It was Minho’s turn to laugh. “None of our friends are straight, man. Unless you’re about to turn out to be our token straight guy?”

Thomas grinned. “I haven’t really thought about it. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

They all started laughing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell that i ship minho with just about everybody? this series is great for being able to make most pairings work, but minho really can be shipped with anyone
> 
> i posted a new oneshot yesterday. it covers the beginning of the first summer holidays of thomas' coma, so if this chapter made you feel too happy, then never fear! there's angst waiting right [here!!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693924)
> 
> this story hit 400 kudos the other day, and i am genuinely stunned that so many people like this fic enough to do that. thank you all so much !!!
> 
> also, with this chapter, the wordcount for this fic is now over 100k (although the series as a whole already was) and holy shit?? that's a lot?? wtf?? how did i write so much?? and there's still 1/4 of the fic left to go !!!
> 
> i mentioned that it's results day. today, 18 year olds in the uk received their a level results. i'm happy with mine !! (and where i did badly i'm finding it funny and it's nbd so it's all good.) i hope that whenever it is or wherever you are, you're happy with how school/work is going for you, too! remember, grades aren't everything, you're worth so much more than a letter or number on a piece of paper
> 
> <3


	76. Chapter 76

He’d mentioned it while joking around with Minho, but in all seriousness, physical therapy was a thing that he was eager to be getting on with.

Before the Incident - which apparently hadn’t been an accident but he was _so_ not getting into that right now - Thomas had loved to run. It had been one of his favourite things to do. He’d been going to his school’s running club since he’d been old enough to be allowed. He’d never been the fastest, that honour being Newt’s, but he’d still been really good.

Now, walking even a single step took an extreme amount of effort.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

If anything, that’s what bothered him the most about all this.

He knew that the fact that he’d missed out on 15 years, and that somebody had actually tried to kill him, should’ve been what he was more upset about.

But his legs weren’t working properly.

His arms were almost completely recovered! He didn’t see _why_ his legs couldn’t just get with the program.

Every day, he would either be wheeled or would wheel himself to the physical therapy room. There, he would try and relearn how to walk.

He could grab the parallel bars easily enough. His _hands_ were doing their shucking job, after all.

But taking a step?

It was hard.

But not impossible.

As time went by, he got better and better at it. He could go further. All of his attempts inevitably ended with him collapsing onto the ground, exhausted, but real progress was being made.

It was going slower than he would’ve liked, but when he complained to Dr Rosier about it, she looked at him like he was talking complete nonsense.

“You were comatose for 15 years. Your mother may have been exercising your limbs, but that’s not actually enough for your body to function properly. The fact that you can move your arms freely, and that you can walk _at all,_ is nothing short of a miracle.”

His friends’ attitudes were similar.

Except for Newt’s.

“It’s not quite the same thing, but after I broke my leg a few years back I had to go to physical therapy sessions as well. I get how frustrating it must be. I miss running, too.”

He didn’t say how he’d broken his leg. Thomas didn’t ask.

 

One day, a little girl started hiding out in the physical therapy room.

Thomas thought that she must’ve been a cancer patient, because it was obvious that she didn’t have any hair underneath the beanie that she was wearing.

She wasn’t strictly supposed to be there, but she sat herself on a bench at the side without bothering anyone, so nobody told her to leave. Thomas didn’t mind. He couldn’t imagine that the pediatrics ward would be much more interesting than anywhere else in the hospital.

Thomas was halfway down the parallel bars when he thought he saw her staring at him.

He looked over properly to see that she definitely was. Her focus was entirely on him, the book in her hands completely forgotten about.

Thomas had been considering dropping right there, but the girl was looking at him so intently that he knew he’d be letting her down if he did.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he cared.

He was getting used to not fully understanding everything that was going on.

He took another step.

And another.

It was slow, and painful, but he made it to the other end for the first time.

He sunk to the ground, ignoring the physical therapist-whose-name-he-didn’t-know’s squeals of delight, and tried to catch his breath.

He looked up when someone started clapping.

The little girl had rushed over and was applauding him excitedly.

“That was really amazing, mister! Well done!”

He smiled at her in thanks.

 

She started showing up every day. She didn’t ever introduce herself, or do anything other than congratulate Thomas for the progress he was making. But they seemed to have an unspoken understanding, and her presence was making him even more determined to succeed.

 

One day, Thomas saw the girl lying on the grass in the hospital gardens. She had her eyes shut, simply basking in the warmth of the sun.

He figured that he should probably say something to her for once.

He wheeled over.

“Hi there.”

The girl opened an eye and peered up at him. “Hello?”

“You’re the girl from physical therapy, aren’t you?”

She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “And _you’re_ the coma guy, right? The one who really shouldn’t be able to walk at all, but nobody told _him_ that, and here we are.”

Thomas laughed. “Nobody told me until I could already manage a couple of steps, and I’m definitely not gonna let it stop me now.”

The girl nodded decisively. “Good.” She help up a hand. “I’m Cheyenne.”

Thomas took her hand and shook it. “Thomas.”

Cheyenne giggled as she took her hand back. “Yeah, I know that. It was all over the news when you woke up.”

“Why do you hang out in the physical therapy room? It can’t be all that interesting for you.”

She shrugged. “It beats watching all the other kids sleep. I swear they’ve become like owls or something.”

“How are they like owls?”

“They’re always asleep during the day.”

“You mean they’re nocturnal?”

“Yes! That’s the word!” She grinned. “Besides, it’s pretty cool watching people make progress. You’ve been hurt, but you’re picking yourself back up and fighting your way towards recovery.” The smile slipped from her face and she hugged her knees to her chest. “I wish I could do that.”

“Why are you in hospital, Cheyenne?” asked Thomas.

“Leukemia. I’m having an operation in a couple of weeks that the doctors say is hopefully gonna cure me.”

“That’s good!”

“I guess?” She hugged her knees tighter. “But it might not work, or something could go wrong. I’m sorta dreading it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m 12.”

Thomas smiled. “Okay, I can promise that you’re already fighting your way towards recovery a lot better than I was at your age. You wanna know what I was doing when I was 12?”

“What?”

“Sleeping. All my doctors were saying that I should’ve been taken off life support, and I definitely would’ve died if they had. So trust me, you’re doing great. As for being nervous, well, that’s completely normal. You just need to have a little courage.”

She sighed. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Thomas thought for a second, then said, “Try thinking about the smile of someone who’s important to you. If you let the fear overwhelm you, they won’t be smiling anymore. If you want to protect their smile, then you need to have the courage to do the thing that’s scaring you. You can’t let them down, right?”

His mind immediately began picturing Newt, and he blinked to dispel the image.

He could take the time to consider Newt’s smile when he wasn’t trying to give a pep talk to a little girl.

If Cheyenne noticed the blip in Thomas’ focus, she didn’t show it. “That could work,” she said. She looked up at him, her own smile forming. “Okay, Thomas, I’ll try it!”

Suddenly, a commotion on the other side of some bushes drew their attention.

A boy, who Thomas guessed was about 14 years old, had snatched a camera away from a man who’d been hiding behind it.

“Do you have permission to be taking pictures here?”

“N-no, but-”

“That’s what I thought.” The boy threw the camera to the ground, and Thomas winced as it shattered. It looked like it had been expensive.

“You can’t just-”

“ _You_ can’t just go around taking photos of people who haven’t consented to it. You’re paparazzi, aren’t you? You were just gonna publish that without a thought to the consequences.”

The man stood. “Now you listen here, you-”

The boy punched him.

The man clutched his nose and ran in the opposite direction.

The boy flexed his hand a couple of times and turned to continue walking down the path.

And Thomas recognised him.

For the life of him, he didn’t know how or where from. The boy must’ve been born after the Incident. And even if he _was_ older than 14, it couldn’t have been by much, and Thomas didn’t remember seeing any babies or toddlers back then anyway. Not that he’d have been able to recognise him anyway, if that were the case.

But he felt like he _knew_ this boy.

“Hey,” he called out, before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

He’d stood up at some point. When had that happened?

The boy stopped walking and looked over. “Hi,” he said, giving them a little wave. “Sorry about all that.”

“It’s fine.” This boy was connected to his missing memories somehow. It was the only thing that made sense. Not that it made any sense at all. There was no way Thomas could know him. He was too young. “Are you okay?”

The boy shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s gonna press charges. Then he’d have to explain why he was on hospital grounds taking pictures of patients. Of a child, no less,” he said, gesturing towards Cheyenne.

“And your hand?” added Thomas lamely.

The boy chuckled and flexed it again. “It hurts a little. I _did_ hit him pretty hard. But I’m okay, don’t worry.”

Thomas nodded. “That’s good.” He cursed himself inwardly. He felt compelled to keep talking to this boy, but if _that_ was all he could think of to say then surely the boy was just going to leave, and Thomas wouldn’t be any closer to having answers. “What brings you to the hospital?”

A small voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously like Newt’s asked him what the shuck he was saying.

The boy, however, didn’t seem to think it was a strange question, and grinned. “I’m gonna be volunteering here real soon. You know, talking to patients and stuff? I’m just here today to fill out some paperwork. Who knows? I might even see you guys around.”

Thomas _knew_ him. He was certain of it.

But, as the ground rushed up to meet him, he still had no idea how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cheyenne is actually having a bone marrow transplant. she said that it was an operation because she doesn't really care about the distinction, but there is actually a difference


	77. Chapter 77

He opened his eyes inside what he knew to be a dream.

He lay on long, soft grass, in a small clearing surrounded by trees. There was a single tree in the centre, standing taller than all the rest. The sky above shone a brilliant blue, thin wispy clouds breaking it up in places.

He knew this place. He loved this place.

A large bubble entered his field of vision from the right, just a few feet away. He launched to his feet to get a better look at it. It jiggled and shimmered with an oily sheen, distorting the world behind it as it floated closer. Looking behind it, Thomas could see more and more of them leading away into the trees.

Sparing no thought to the consequences, he reach out and touched the bubble.

It popped, spraying him with tiny droplets of liquid.

He fell to his knees as it all came flooding back.

Teresa, his classmate, a girl he barely spoke to, going missing one night in March.

Minho, one of his best friends, also disappearing not long after.

His friendship group fracturing, unable to cope with the loss.

...

But that didn’t make sense! He’d seen Teresa and Minho alive and well, grown up, and their group was as solid as ever.

He pulled himself to his feet and staggered towards the next bubble.

It popped, and he remembered the same few weeks again. But they _weren’t_ the same. He’d befriended Teresa, and tried to keep her safe. But she’d still died. That version’s differences stopped there, effectively melding back into the one that had come before.

Another bubble gave him more memories of those lives. Time in school spent alone. Desperately missing his friends, but every interaction being too painful to cope with, so avoiding them regardless of what he really wanted.

More bubbles came.

More popped.

He remembered a party, and hiding in a bathroom, and Newt. _Newt._ Finally, after so many years, being able to reconnect and talk and _be_ with the person who understood him most of all.

He remembered a much younger Newt confronting him about his strange behaviour. He remembered the two of them working together to save Teresa, to save Minho, to save Brenda.

Those memories didn’t align with the others.

He remembered deciding to follow Beth. He remembered Newt hugging him goodbye, making him promise to be careful, and to come back safe.

He knew that the next one would explain it all. The next one would tell him who’d hurt him, and why he could remember multiple versions of the same few weeks, and why they were so wildly different. Why _he’d_ acted so differently.

But everything started to blur.

The bubbles ahead of him started to lose their form, threatening to dissolve into a grey mist.

He ran, thrusting his arms of ahead of him in a desperate attempt to reach them before they were gone.

Moments before he collided with the trees, everything vanished.

  


His arm shot upwards and brushed some paper hangings.

He opened his eyes.

He was in the same room that he’d first woken up from his coma in.

“Tommy!”

Thomas turned his head towards the voice. Newt was kneeling next to his bed, his head level with Thomas’ own. He looked scared, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, but desperately wanted to.

“Hey,” said Thomas. His throat scratched with disuse. “What’s with the paper?”

Newt made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Cheyenne made them for you.”

Thomas reached a hand out towards Newt, and Newt took it in his without a second thought.

“How long was I out?”

Newt smiled sadly. “A year and two months.” He brushed his other hand through Thomas’ hair. “I thought I told you not to do that to me again.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“I know, Tommy.” Newt shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Newt wordlessly stared into Thomas’ eyes for a few seconds, and suddenly his resolve broke. He wrapped his arms around Thomas as best as he could and held him close.

Thomas returned the hug. He felt Newt shaking, sobbing into his shoulder, and rubbed his back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he said, mostly into Newt’s hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Newt choked another bit of almost-laughter, and said, “You’re a bloody idiot, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Thomas squeezed Newt tighter. “I know. But that’s why I’ve got you.”

“Thomas?” came a woman’s voice from the door.

Newt detached himself, but stayed kneeling next to the bed, his hand still grasping Thomas’ tight. He wiped away his tears with his other one. “He just woke up, Mary.” Again, he laughed, and said, “He asked how long it’s been, like he’d just taken a nap or something.”

Thomas tried crack a grin. “Compared to my last coma, I think that one kinda does count as a nap.”

“That’s not the point!”

Thomas’ mother knelt on the other side of his bed. She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Good morning.” She chuckled. “And stop making me repeat myself, dummy.”

“Hey!” said Thomas. “What is this? ‘Insult Thomas Hour’?”

“More like ‘Insult Thomas Lifetime’,” said Newt. “Not so sure about your mother, but I know _I’m_ never going to _stop_ insulting you. You’re officially 16 years behind everyone else on that front, so you’re just gonna have to get used to it. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

“You were nice to me last time.”

“You got lucky. I was just about to start with the insults when you decided the ground was more comfortable than your buggin’ wheelchair.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “I guess I’ll have to stick around now to hear it all then, won’t I?”

“Good that, Tommy,” said Newt softly. “Good bloody that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today marks six months since i started uploading this fic. it's surreal, it doesn't feel like it's possible that that much time has passed, but it has. time is weird haha


	78. Chapter 78

Thomas was moved back into the hospital, and he was reassessed.

His arms were functioning fine, just as they had been before. His legs had only regressed a small amount. He could still walk almost as far as he’d been able to previously, which admittedly wasn’t as much as he’d have liked, but was still a lot more than anyone else expected.

Two separate doctors asked him who he’d sold his soul to. He found that pretty funny.

All through this, Newt barely left his side.

Before Thomas’ second coma, Newt had visited frequently, usually with Minho but also occasionally alone. But now it was as if he’d set up camp in Thomas’ room. He sorted through sketches and emailed clients, all from the chair next to Thomas’ bed. At first, he’d only leave if he needed the loo, or if he was getting food, and he’d always bring whatever he was eating back into Thomas’ room so he wasn’t away long.

The others visited too, but they visited like normal people do. They came, they sat, they talked, they left.

“Minho,” said Thomas one day, while Newt had stepped out, “he needs to go home.”

Minho raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you like having him here?”

“I do, but he needs to actually get some sleep from time to time. You know, in a proper bed?”

Minho smirked. “You mean he hasn’t been sharing yours?”

“What?” Thomas spluttered. “No! I mean, there isn’t room, and I don’t know if he’d even be allowed, and what are you implying with-”

Minho held up a hand to stop the rambling and laughed. “Don’t worry about it, _Tommy._ I’ll take him home tonight. ‘Resa and I can keep an eye on him.”

When Minho left a couple of hours later - Newt having been dragged along with him - Thomas was finally left alone.

Meaning his mind was free to fixate on what Minho had said.

He thought back to that party. The end-of-school celebration thrown by Sonya, at which Thomas and Newt had both sought refuge in the upstairs bathroom. When they’d talked for hours, about anything and everything. When they’d laughed, and cried, and _finally_ found their way home to one another, after years of near radio silence. When they’d eventually moved their conversation in Newt’s bedroom, due to the bathtub they were sitting in eventually feeling too uncomfortable and cramped. When they’d...

Oh.

_Oh._

That party hadn’t happened, though. Or if it had, Thomas hadn’t been there because he’d been in a fucking coma. That night with Newt couldn’t have been real. It existed only in his mind. And in that version of Thomas’ memories, Minho had been dead.

So how had he known what happened?

No, he hadn't known. There was no way that he could’ve known.

He’d merely implied that they _should._

And fuck, he was right. Minho was right.

Thomas wanted to be close to Newt. In any way that Newt would have him.

He couldn’t count on Newt being interested, though. He especially couldn’t rely on the memory of the party. That night they’d been 18, and not entirely sober, and caught up in the relief of knowing each other again. And Thomas couldn’t be a hundred percent certain that that memory was even real, and not just some dream he’d come up with during his second coma. It was worryingly plausible that it was something that his imagination had cooked up, simply a manifestation of what he hadn’t even known that he’d wanted.

He wanted.

But Newt was his friend. His closest friend, yes, but still his friend. Thomas wasn’t going to do anything that could ruin that. He wasn’t going to risk it.

Damn Minho for bringing it up.

  


After much wrangling, Newt finally agreed to spend his nights at home. That way he could sleep and eat properly, and could do whatever work he needed to that couldn’t be done in a hospital room.

It was a relief for everyone to see him taking better care of himself.

Thomas threw himself back into physical therapy, and was progressing at a much faster rate than he had been before the second coma. Before too long, he was strong enough to walk with a walking frame.

He was delighted.

“It’s probably not a good idea to go too far,” said Newt when Thomas expressed a wish to go somewhere without the wheelchair.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I know that, give me _some_ credit. I was thinking about going down to the gardens and back. Just to prove that I can.”

“Okay,” said Newt, “but I’m coming with you.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two made their way down to the gardens slowly, but with relative ease, and sat themselves on a bench in the shade.

“It’s a beautiful day,” said Thomas.

Newt hummed in agreement.

“I got in the habit of coming down here, and just sitting, watching the world go by. It’s a lot less boring than it sounds.”

Newt chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Simple pleasures, right?”

Thomas grinned. “Exactly.”

They both fell silent. It was comfortable, neither of them pressuring the other to speak. They stayed like that for a while, until-

“Thomas? Is that you?”

Both men turned to see a young girl rushing over towards them.

“It _is_ you! I’d heard you were awake, but I hadn’t had a chance to visit until now, sorry. Did you like the decorations?”

Thomas recognised her. Her hair was growing back, and what there was of it had been styled into a pixie cut. She was smiling widely.

“Yes, Cheyenne, I loved them. Thank you for making them for me.”

“It’s no problem! I was told that last time you woke up, you’d forgotten what had happened for a few weeks before you fell asleep, so I figured that if I made something that would be there when you woke up then you’d _have_ to remember me.”

Thomas smiled. “It worked. Your decorations were the first thing I saw, and I definitely remember you.”

“They were the first thing he touched, too,” Newt cut in. “He shot his arm up and whacked them, before he’d even opened his eyes.”

Cheyenne laughed. “I’m glad they were helpful.”

“I’m guessing your treatment went well?” asked Thomas.

“Yep! I’ve been cancer free for a year now. I’m just here today for a checkup.” Her smile softened. “What you told me about having courage really helped me. Thank you.”

Newt nudged Thomas in the ribs. “What did you tell her?”

“He told me to picture the smile of someone I love, and that I need to be brave so that they can keep smiling,” said Cheyenne before Thomas could respond.

“And who did you think of?” asked Newt.

“My big sister. She’s the one who donated bone marrow for me.”

Newt smiled. “That’s great!”

“Who do you two think of when you need to have courage?”

Thomas couldn’t very well say _Newt,_ regardless of how true it was, and so desperately tried to think of another answer.

Newt seemed not to notice the delay, getting his reply in first. “My sister, Sonya. We’re twins, but I’m older so I’m her big brother, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Cheyenne giggled.

“Also,” continued Newt, “all of my friends. I love every single one of them and I hate seeing them sad, even for a second.”

“Same here,” said Thomas, well aware of how lame he sounded.

The other two didn’t appear to think so, however, as they nodded their agreement.

“Anyway,” said Thomas, “it’s good to see you’re doing well.”

“Thank you.” Cheyenne beamed. “You too. It was really scary seeing you pass out like that. Don’t do that again, okay?”

Thomas nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

Cheyenne looked at her watch. “I’ve gotta go, my appointment’s in 10 minutes and I haven’t checked in yet.”

Newt winced. “Doesn’t it get busy? You’re cutting it a bit fine.”

“Nah, I get to jump the queue, ‘cause I’m a kid _and_ a cancer patient.” She waved goodbye and ran towards the building.

Newt turned towards Thomas and grinned. “Where did you get that idea about courage?”

Thomas shrugged. “Not sure. She needed cheering up, so I came up with some bullshit on the fly. I’m glad it worked out for her.”

Newt gasped in mock-offense. “Language, Tommy!”

“Oh please,” Thomas laughed, “I’m 27. I can say what I like.”

And if Thomas thought that the laughter that started coming from Newt was the most beautiful sound in the world?

That was no one’s business but his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you found minho and newt talking about minho's brief relationship with gally entertaining, then you'll be pleased to know that i wrote a oneshot about it [here!!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773952)


	79. Chapter 79

When they decided to head back up to Thomas’ room, Thomas decided that he wanted to try using the stairs.

“Are you sure?” said Newt when Thomas walked right past the lifts. “You’re only just able to walk.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine! I’ll take it slowly, and I’ll tell you if I need to stop and rest.”

Newt sighed. “I’m not gonna be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Nope,” said Thomas.

“In that case, follow me.”

Newt lead him away from the stairs that were next to the lift and down a few corridors. Thomas tried looking at the various signs they passed, but knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to recreate this route on his own.

What was it with hospitals and being like a maze?

After a short while, they reached another set of stairs. Unlike the ones next to the lifts, they were empty.

Thomas looked at Newt questioningly.

“We won’t get in anyone’s way here, so you can take as long as you need. Nobody ever uses these stairs.”

“How come you’re so sure?”

Newt shrugged. “I hid here sometimes when I was being treated for my leg. Nobody ever found me. I can’t imagine much will have changed.” He fixed Thomas with a serious expression. “If you need to stop, then stop. There’s no rush. And if you need to stop completely, we can head back over to the lifts at any point.”

Thomas nodded.

He took the first step, and was suddenly _very_ aware of the fact that he hadn’t tried to climb any stairs in 16 years.

“You okay, Tommy?”

Newt was standing behind him. Thomas looked back to see that Newt had his arms out in front, ready to catch him if he fell backwards. Thomas felt a rush of affection towards his friend, and turned to face the front.

“Yeah, Newt. I’m good.”

He took another step. And another.

It was slow going, and he had to pause at each landing to recover, but he was doing it! Every step of the way, Newt offered encouragement, along with reassurance that he didn’t have to keep going if he didn’t want to. Thomas was sure that if it had been anyone else with him, he’d have lost patience with them very quickly. But it was Newt, so he didn’t.

With just one level to go, Thomas needed to take a longer break. He reached the landing, turned, and sat on the top step.

“You still okay?”

Thomas gave him a double thumbs up. “Just need a break.”

Newt sat down next to him, stretching his bad leg out. “You know what, mate? I think I’ll join you.”

_Mate._

He’d never minded being called that before, but now it stung. Newt called everyone mate, and Thomas didn’t want to just be like _everyone_ to him. And he needed to chill the fuck out because it was just a word. There was absolutely no need to make himself sad over it.

As they sat in silence, Thomas thought over the memories he’d regained. Or possibly fabricated. He still wasn’t entirely sure which it was.

He didn’t have all of the pieces. The memories from the version where people died, and there was no coma, faded away to nothing somewhere in his mid 20s, while the memories from the other version offered no explanation for how he’d known what to do. He cursed his younger self for not just being straightforward with Newt. If he had, then maybe Newt would be able to fill him in now. Or at least Thomas would remember giving the explanation.

...

He should probably take his own advice. He was yet to mention to _anyone_ that _any_ of his memories had returned.

He looked over at Newt.

Newt was looking at him, a small frown on his face, like he was examining him. Thomas wasn’t surprised to find that he didn’t mind, even if it wasn’t exactly the type of examination he wanted.

_Focus._

“I need to tell you something.”

Newt gestured for him to continue.

“Some of my memories came back.”

“I know.”

Thomas froze. “What?”

Newt shrugged. “I figured you needed the space to process, and that you’d tell me in your own time. Which you just did.”

Thomas was silent for a moment, then said, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re amazing?”

Newt blinked in surprise. “Uh, I don’t think so?”

“If our positions were switched, I wouldn’t have been nearly as patient. I’d have demanded to know everything as soon as possible.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Let’s be real, Tommy. If our positions were switched, you wouldn’t have even noticed that I’d remembered anything.”

Thomas laughed. “That’s fair.”

“So, you’re ready to share?”

“Yeah. But, Newt, it’s weird. It’s like I can remember different versions of February and March. There’s the version that actually happened, where I ended up in a coma, which matches up with what your letter said.” Thomas paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “Then there’s the version where I didn’t. There are two versions like that, actually. In one I didn’t try to help anyone at all, and in one I _did_ try to save Teresa, but in both she still died. And Minho, too. And I don’t end up in a coma, so I remember stuff about those lives up until when I guess is around about now. But those memories couldn’t possibly have happened, so why can I remember them so clearly?”

Newt said nothing.

Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I sound like I’m going crazy.”

Newt elbowed him in the ribs and smiled softly. “Let’s assume you’re not. You implied something pretty similar to me when we were kids, anyway.”

“I did?”

“Well, you knew about the killer, and you knew who he was gonna target. You said you’d explain everything properly after you were sure it was over, but I thought that you must’ve had knowledge or memories of things going badly.”

Thomas nodded. “I can’t remember if I really did, though.”

“Do you remember the person who tried to kill you?”

“No, I don’t remember that either.” Thomas broke their eye contact and looked down at his feet. “I know I should, but the last thing I remember from that version, the _real_ version, is you hugging me before I left school to follow Beth. It’s a complete blank after that.”

“That’s a shame.” Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas saw Newt’s mouth creeping up into a smirk. “You could’ve picked something _useful_ to remember. That would’ve been a lot more helpful.”

“You said in your letter that you’re trying to look for the killer yourself?”

Newt nodded. “Me, Minho, Sonya, and Vince.”

“Have you got any ideas?”

“Yes.”

Thomas snapped his head up to face him again, hope blooming in his chest.

“But I’m not gonna tell you who I think it is.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because the human brain is fragile and prone to failure.” He smiled apologetically. “If I tell you who I think it is, it’s possible that your brain will conjure up a memory of it being that person, regardless of whether it was really them or not. It’s better if you let the memories come back on their own.”

Thomas sighed. He had to admit, it made sense. Even if he was annoyed about it. “What if I never remember?”

“Then you never remember.” Newt shrugged. “That’s kind of out of our hands, Tommy.”

“I’ll have to find out your theory eventually.”

“Okay, then we’ll give it until you’re fully recovered. And I mean _fully._ You need to have no trouble walking anywhere at all, or doing anything for yourself. If you get to that point and you still can’t remember, then we can assume that you’re not going to, and I’ll tell you my theory.”

Reluctantly, Thomas nodded. “That’s probably a sensible idea.”

Newt smirked. “I’ve been known to have those on occasion.”

Thomas punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I can’t, I’m taller than you.”

Thomas didn’t even try to hold in his laughter. Newt laughed along with him.

After a few minutes, Newt calmed down enough to say, “Have you noticed that we have a tendency to have heart-to-hearts like this while sitting in a stairwell?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

He thought about it for a moment. “Huh,” he said. “You’re right.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I think I’m rested enough. We can keep going now.”

Newt stood. “I’m right behind you.”

Thomas smiled. “I know.”


	80. Chapter 80

His physical therapists were not happy that he’d decided to try walking up some stairs.

He hadn’t been cleared for it. He could’ve injured himself. What if he’d fallen?

They tried to tell Newt off for encouraging him, but Newt took little notice. “He would’ve done it anyway, whether I was there or not. This way if something _had_ gone wrong, there was someone there who knew what he was doing and could call for help if needed.”

Unsurprisingly, this didn’t placate them much. Neither did the discovery that, actually, it had helped. His ability to walk had improved a lot.

Because it had helped, he kept doing it. Each day, he and Newt climbed the stairs when going back up to his room. It only took a week and a half for the doctors to give up on nagging him to stop. Like Newt had said, he was going to do it anyway, so they might as well leave him to it. It wasn’t like he was trying to do it alone.

And he was making progress.

Newt spent most of every day with him. Thomas loved having him around, he really did. But he had to admit to himself that it was difficult. Ever since Minho had suggested that they could be more than friends (and seriously, fuck him for that) it was constantly on his mind.

He was probably spending about as much time thinking about _Newt_ as he was trying to remember what he’d forgotten.

Newt probably didn’t feel the same way. Thomas knew that Newt cared about him. He wasn’t _that_ stupid. Newt wouldn’t be spending so much time with him if he didn’t. But from Newt’s perspective, Thomas was someone that he hadn’t spoken to since primary school.

It didn’t matter what he remembered from this _other_ life. He couldn’t use that as an indicator of Newt’s feelings now. All it meant was that, maybe, if Minho and Teresa had been murdered and then he and Newt had barely spoken for seven years, then there would’ve been the potential for something. Something short-lived, with no communication after that night.

Obviously that wasn’t ideal. Besides, this way his friends were alive.

Thomas wouldn’t trade his friends’ lives for anything.

  


Three weeks after the first trip up the stairs, Thomas was sitting in a chair in his room, chatting to his mother and Newt about a TV show they’d been watching. Newt was in the middle of describing something about memories stored in a pocket watch when they heard a small knock at the door.

They looked over to see Cheyenne standing in the doorway, clutching a piece of paper in her hand.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Thomas.

She smiled and stepped forward a few paces.

Thomas’ mother tutted, smiled, and said, “Come on now, don’t be shy. Sit down.”

She giggled softly. “I’m not shy.”

Newt grinned. “Yes you are. How’ve you been, Cheyenne?”

She sat at the foot of Thomas’ empty bed and smiled. “I’ve been good. Still cancer free. What about you?”

“Can’t complain.” Newt nodded towards Thomas. “Tommy here’s been walking up the stairs.”

“I heard!” Cheyenne’s face lit up as she leant forwards. “Some nurses were talking about it. Everyone wants to know how you’re recovering so quickly.”

Thomas chuckled. “I have no idea.”

“I do,” said Newt. “You’re easily bored, and also extremely stubborn. You’ve decided that you’re gonna get better, so that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m easily bored and stubborn?”

Newt laughed and gently punched his shoulder. “I meant those as good things, idiot. You’re determined enough to get back on your feet even though all predictions were that you’d struggle to walk for the rest of your life, if you’d be able to walk at all.”

Thomas was dimly aware of the fact that he didn’t mind Newt calling him an idiot in the slightest.

“Do you think you’ll be recovered enough for the camp?” asked Cheyenne.

“Camp?”

Cheyenne handed Thomas the paper she’d been holding. “They had these at the main reception. Every year the hospital runs a camp for long term patients. It’s more of a sleepover really, because it’s just one night. There’s a barbecue and fireworks.”

Thomas looked down at the flyer. Apparently the event was being sponsored by a city council member. The name seemed familiar for some reason. He must’ve heard it around somewhere, on the news or something.

“I might be.”

“It usually ends up just being kids and people needing physical therapy, because it’s at a campsite, so people needing more intensive care have to stay in the hospital.” Cheyenne practically bounced in place. “This year will be my third time going!”

“Do you want to go?” asked Thomas’ mother.

Thomas handed her the leaflet. “I don’t know. Maybe? It could be nice to get out of the hospital for a couple of days.”

Thomas’ mother looked at it, and said, “Well if you want to go, I can volunteer to help out. I’m sure they never have enough of those.”

She handed the leaflet to Newt, who frowned slightly as he read it. “Same here.”

“You sure?” asked Thomas. “You won’t be busy, or-”

Newt looked up at him, frown gone from his face. “I’ll never be too busy for you. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” said Thomas. “Sure. I’ll go. It sounds like fun.”

Cheyenne beamed. “That’s great! You’ll love it! The food is always really nice, and the fireworks get better every year!”

“You’ll need to get permission from your doctor first,” said Thomas’ mother. “It shouldn’t be a problem, but maybe don’t get excited yet.”

“Which doctor?” asked Thomas. “I’ve seen so many, which one’s actually _mine?_ ”

“Dr Rosier,” said Newt.

“Oh, her. I haven’t seen her since-” Thomas cut himself off, realisation dawning. “That’s _Brenda!_ ”

Newt laughed. “Yeah, Tommy, that’s Brenda. Took you long enough to realise.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “We didn’t meet her until after the point that your memory cut out. You’d have had no idea who I was talking about.”

“But-”

“And,” he continued, interrupting whatever Thomas was about to say, “if I’d said anything before now, then I’d have missed out on seeing your face when you finally worked it out. Which would’ve been a tragic loss.”

Thomas glared, but there was no heat behind his expression. “You’re mean to me.”

Newt grinned. “I did nothing.”

“That’s exactly my point!”

“As I was saying,” said Thomas’ mother, though she was smiling, “you’ll need to get her to sign a form saying that it’s safe for you to go.”

“Don’t worry about her,” said Newt. “She’ll definitely say that you can.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because she’s cool, and because Fry’ll never let her hear the end of it if she doesn’t.”

“Is that yet another couple that somebody should’ve told me about sooner?”

Newt shrugged. “Not yet, but Fry needs to get his act together and ask her out already. I doubt she’ll say no.”

For the second time that day, they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

The girl in the doorway looked like a slightly older version of Cheyenne. Newt shot her a friendly wave as Cheyenne jumped to her feet.

“You’ll try your hardest to come, won’t you?”

“If Dr Rosier says I can go, I’m there,” said Thomas.

Cheyenne grinned and crossed the room to join the girl at the door.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her,” said the older girl, who Thomas assumed was Cheyenne’s sister.

“It’s no problem,” said Thomas’ mother. “We like having her around.”


	81. Chapter 81

It took a couple more days for Brenda to show her face.

Thomas hadn’t seen her since before he’d fallen into the second coma. He hadn’t really thought about it, which was why he hadn’t made the connection sooner. And he hadn’t known her very well, anyway, and not for all that long, so of course it had taken him longer than it probably should’ve done to realise that it was her.

She walked in one morning and grinned at him. “Hey, Thomas! Sorry it’s been so long since I last saw you. I hear your recovery’s going well?”

“You’re Brenda,” he said in response.

Newt, who was sitting in the corner doing some sort of work on his laptop, sniggered and looked up. “Getting straight to the point, aren’t you Tommy?”

Brenda sighed and looked over at him. “Seeing as you live here now, I’m guessing you told him?”

Newt held up a finger. “One, I do not _live_ here.” He held up a second. “Two, I didn’t, actually. He figured it out for himself.” He put his hand down. “It was a fun conversation.”

Brenda rolled her eyes and turned back to Thomas. “Yes,” she said, smiling, “I’m Brenda. I see some of your memories have returned.”

Thomas nodded. “Most, but not all. I still can’t remember anything after leaving school that day.”

Brenda opened the file she was holding and wrote something down, before closing it and placing it on the table at the foot of the bed.

“So you _did_ become a doctor?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Do you like it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Thomas grinned. “That’s good to hear.”

In the Alternate Memories, Brenda had been murdered along with Minho and Teresa. Thomas really hadn’t known her before everything, so seeing her alive and happy didn’t trigger the same emotional response in him that it did with Minho and Teresa (and Newt for some reason), but it _did_ make him feel relieved. Even if he didn’t know how he’d known about it, his actions had saved her. And here she was. Living the life she’d always wanted to, and now had the opportunity to lead.

“Do you still know Jorge Fring?” he asked.

Her eyes lit up. “Yes! He’s a family friend, so I see him all the time. You two were friends, weren’t you?”

Thomas nodded. “We used to hang out at the park sometimes. How’s he doing?”

“He’s great! He went travelling for a bit a few years ago, so he’s always got fun stories to share.” Her smile dropped a little. “He was really torn up when you were hospitalised.”

“Tell him that I’m sorry and that he’s welcome to come say hi.”

She nodded. “I definitely will.”

“Why didn’t you say who you were before?”

“You didn’t remember me. Imagine that conversation. ‘Hi Thomas, I’m gonna be your doctor. Also your friendship group befriended me in the weeks running up to the start of your coma, and we’ve all been friends ever since, sorry if that sounds like I was replacing you’.”

Without looking up from his computer, Newt called out, “You’re being dumb, Bren.”

“Yeah,” agreed Thomas, “we’re two entirely different people. No way were you replacing me.”

“Even so,” she said, not quite succeeding at hiding the relief from her face, “I figured that it was best to just act as your doctor and be professional. Any explanations could come later if they needed to happen.” She shrugged. “Looks like they didn’t.”

“How much do you owe Fry, again?” said Newt, still not looking up from what he was typing.

Brenda sighed and leant back against the wall. “Not much, just a coffee.”

“Why do you owe him a coffee?” asked Thomas.

“Because I thought that I would have to eventually reintroduce myself to you. He disagreed enough to bet on it.”

Thomas chuckled. “You should’ve listened to him.”

She grinned. “Maybe I could still get that coffee, if you could just-”

“I already told him,” said Newt.

“You little shit,” Brenda shot back. Then she laughed, and said, “Oh well, it’s no big loss.”

“Aren’t doctors not allowed to treat people they know?”

“Are _you_ capable of saying anything that isn’t a question?”

Thomas laughed. “I’ve missed 16 years, cut me some slack.”

Newt actually did look up this time. “You say as if you weren’t already like that.”

“They’re valid questions!”

“Normally, yeah,” said Brenda, “doctors aren’t supposed to treat people they know. But we were short staffed the day you woke up, and we’d barely even met. It was good enough.”

“Thank you for answering me,” said Thomas.

“You’re very welcome,” laughed Brenda.

“I have one more question.”

“For now,” added Newt.

Thomas rolled his eyes, exaggerating his annoyance. He continued speaking once he’d heard Newt’s laughter.

“Can I go on the camp in August?”

The smile on Brenda’s face was replaced with an expression of confusion. “Camp?”

Thomas pointed to the leaflet that was lying on the table. Brenda picked it up and read through it, a frown appearing on her face.

“You have to sign a form to say I can go.”

Brenda looked up at him. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea. You’d be away from hospital facilities. This campsite’s pretty remote.”

“It’s hospital-run camp, though, so there’d be doctors on standby just in case.”

“I’m also not sure if you’d be physically up to it.” Brenda paused, then said, “You’ve probably already heard about how amazed everyone is at how fast you’re recovering. I’m loathe to jeopardise that.”

“Brenda,” said Newt, “Tommy’s not gonna push himself too hard. He’s not an idiot. This could be a really good opportunity for him to actually get out of the hospital for once, while still being in a safe environment.”

“I understand that, Newt, but I’ve got to look at the whole picture. Thomas’ health has to come first.”

“Mary and I are planning to go along as volunteers, but we won’t if he isn’t allowed to go.”

“That is a dirty tactic and you know it.”

Newt grinned. “I’m just giving you all the facts,” he said in an innocent sounding voice.

Brenda turned back towards Thomas. “I’m ignoring what he just said. There’ll be enough volunteers without them, so don’t try using that in your argument.”

Thomas nodded. “I’d really like to go. It’ll be nice to see somewhere other than this building.”

Brenda sighed. “Based off of what I’ve been told about you, I imagine that you’re the sort of person who, if I told you no, would ignore me and go anyway. We’d wake up one day to find that you and Newt had disappeared because you’d decided to go off on an adventure together, with no regard to anyone else’s concerns. Tell me, how accurate is that assumption?”

Thomas laughed nervously. “Probably very accurate.”

“I resent my role in that imagining,” said Newt.

Brenda shot him a look that Thomas couldn’t quite see. Newt pretended to glare back for a second, before huffing with a small amount of laughter.

“I _would_ listen to your concerns. I don’t want him getting hurt.” Newt shrugged. “The rest is probably true, to be honest.”

She nodded and turned back to Thomas. “If you’re gonna go either way then I’ll sign the form for you. Given your current rate of recovery, you most likely will be fit enough for it anyway. I’ll specify that you need a cabin rather than a tent, and that at the first sign of any issues you’re to come straight back here, but otherwise you’re golden.” A smile crept back onto her face. “I hope you have fun.”

Thomas smiled back. “I’m sure I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're curious about that party from the first timeline that thomas keeps thinking about, a [oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862527) about it went up the other day !!! please be sensible and pay attention to the rating, and if you're young then it might be better if you skip this one


	82. Chapter 82

Thomas and Newt were sitting in the hospital gardens. Thomas was trying his absolute hardest to pay attention to the conversation, but he kept getting distracted by the way Newt’s hair was falling in front of his eyes, just _begging_ for him to push it back.

Then he’d realise that he wasn’t listening, and try to force himself to focus. It would work for all of two seconds, before he’d get lost in the sound of Newt’s voice, letting it simply wash over him.

Which meant that he _still_ wasn’t actually listening to the words being said.

Goddammit.

“You alright, Tommy?”

Thomas blinked and came back to himself. “Yes!”

“You seem a bit spaced out.”

“I’m a hundred percent focused.”

Newt raised an eyebrow, like he didn’t really believe him, but opened his mouth to continue speaking anyway. However, his gaze fall on something just behind Thomas and he cut himself off, a wide smile appearing on his face instead.

“Hey Cheyenne. Hi Chuck.”

Thomas whipped around to see.

Cheyenne was walking towards them, and a couple of paces behind her was a teenage boy that Thomas had seen before.

He was the one who’d punched that paparazzi guy just moments before Thomas had fallen into the second coma.

Thomas remembered feeling like he’d known him. He was feeling it again now.

And apparently the kid’s name was _Chuck._

Thomas was suddenly very glad that he was sitting down, because he was convinced that if he’d been standing then his legs would’ve given out.

It was almost as if the boy’s name had been the key. Like being told one thing about what he’d forgotten had been enough for the rest of it to all come flooding back. He couldn’t _see_ the dream bubbles popping, but he felt them nonetheless.

He remembered working at the pizza place. He remembered meeting Chuck, becoming close with him, becoming like brothers.

He remembered the Revivals.

He remembered how they’d been happening for so long that he didn’t know exactly when they’d started. How every time something bad happened, he’d had to fix it. How this had varied from being as mundane as stopping somebody’s phone from smashing, to that one time he’d had to stop a child from being hit by a train at a malfunctioning level crossing. How he’d been annoyed by this ‘ability’, but had also decided that it was worth it if it made the world just a little bit better for everyone else.

He remembered his mother’s murder.

He remembered being sent back in time so much further than ever before.

“Tommy?” Newt put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay? You’ve gone pale.”

Thomas took a deep breath and nodded.

He needed to act normally.

“Hi!” said Chuck. “You might not remember me, but-”

“No, I do.” Thomas smiled. “You were there when I collapsed, right? You’d just punched that dude with the camera.”

“Yep, that’s me!” said Chuck. “I’d have visited sooner, but I haven’t been able to get down to the hospital before now. You just _had_ to wake up when I stopped volunteering for a bit, didn’t you?”

Thomas laughed. “Sorry about that.”

“Chuck’s gonna be coming on the camp too, so I thought you two should actually meet properly before then!” Cheyenne said. She was practically vibrating with excitement.

“In that case, hi!” Thomas waved. “My name’s Thomas.”

“I’m Chuck. It’s good to see you awake, man.” Chuck chuckled. “Sorry, that might’ve sounded a little weird. Cheyenne dragged me along to visit you a few times.”

Thomas shrugged. “It doesn’t sound weird, don’t worry. I figured something like that had happened, seeing as Newt already knew you.”

Chuck nodded, and shifted his gaze towards Newt. “And how are you holding up?”

Newt smiled. “Never better.”

Chuck grinned. “I’ll bet. Have you actually left his side at all?”

Newt sat up straight. _“Yes!”_ he hissed.

“He had to be dragged home,” said Thomas. “I had to ask someone to drag him home.”

Chuck and Cheyenne started laughing as Newt gently punched Thomas in the shoulder. “Don’t say it like _that,_ you make it sound worse than it was.”

“I’m making it sound _exactly_ as it was and you know it.” Thomas's own expression softened as he said, “It’s good that you’re taking better care of yourself now.”

“Dude,” said Chuck, “you’re cool. I like you.”

Thomas remembered the fire.

He smiled, hoping that nobody noticed how fake it was. “I’m glad you think so.”

Newt’s hand found his and squeezed it.

Fuck, he’d noticed.

Chuck and Cheyenne seemed not to, though. They chatted for a short while longer, before saying their goodbyes and heading back inside.

Thomas turned towards Newt.

The last pieces of his missing memories slotted into place.

He remembered what he’d learned in the library, when curiosity had gotten the better of him and he’d decided to look up what his friends had been doing.

The fact that he also remembered every moment until he’d lost consciousness all those years ago barely registered in his brain.

“Tommy?” Newt sounded concerned, worried, and there was something else there that Thomas couldn’t quite name. “Tommy what’s wrong?”

Thomas shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“You look like you’re about to burst into tears. Don’t lie to me.”

Thomas rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “I’m not lying. At least, I don’t think so. Nothing’s wrong right now. It was, but not anymore. Does that make sense?”

Newt studied his face for a moment, then said, “Do you want to go back inside?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Newt squeezed Thomas’ hand again, before letting it go and helping him to his feet.


	83. Chapter 83

The walk back to the building was silent. Thomas couldn’t even spare the attention to enjoy it, to enjoy simply being near to Newt, to enjoy the feeling of his hand resting on his back as they walked.

His mind was far too busy reeling.

Because the sports centre. The car. The surreal discussion. The missing lollipops. The lake.

And Newt.

What he’d learned about Newt.

Thomas had been fully prepared to live through his whole life again, had intended to do just that, in order to make sure that he was there for Newt.

Anything to make sure he wouldn’t kill himself.

But then he’d gone and got himself put in a coma, and had been unconscious at that point. He hadn’t been there for him.

What else had gone differently that Newt was still alive?

Thomas wasn’t complaining. Whatever it was, whatever had changed that led to Newt’s survival, Thomas would always be thankful for it. If he’d woken up and Newt hadn’t been there, it would’ve broken him. Even without all his memories.

He looked up at the loss of feeling of Newt’s hand on his back. They’d reached the bottom of the stairs.

“D’ya reckon you can? Or-”

“I can do it,” said Thomas, and he took a step.

Newt followed closely behind, there in case he fell. He was always there for him. Here Thomas was, lost in his own head, and Newt was just waiting for him to come back in his own time, making his presence known while he waited.

Thomas didn’t understand it. What had he ever done to actually _earn_ Newt’s patience and trust? All he’d done was throw himself into plans that hadn’t been fully thought through, and _ask_ for trust while explaining absolutely nothing.

And Newt had given it.

Was still giving it.

It didn’t make any sense.

Thomas stopped walking at the top of the flight of stairs they were on.

“You okay?”

“Need a break,” murmured Thomas as he turned around to sit. Wordlessly, Newt sat down next to him, so close that they were almost touching.

Almost.

Thomas took a deep breath. “I think I just got the rest of my memories back.”

“What, all at once?”

Thomas nodded.

“Oh, Tommy,” said Newt, and he pulled him in for a hug. Thomas didn’t even have to think about it, he wrapped his arms around Newt and held him tight.

When Newt sat back so they could look at each other again, it felt like it was way too soon.

“Sorry for making you wait so long.”

Newt shook his head firmly. “Don’t be daft, you have nothing to apologise for.”

“I do, though. You’ve been waiting for so long, and I should’ve been there, and I-”

Newt’s hands flew to Thomas’ shoulders, where they gripped him tightly. “Tommy,” he said, “how about you start from the beginning?”

Thomas felt his head shake slightly, although he wasn’t consciously moving it. “I can’t,” he said. “I don’t know what that is.”

The corners of Newt’s mouth twitched upwards, although Thomas could tell he was trying to suppress his amusement. He didn’t mind that Newt was finding this funny. He knew that in a couple of hours he’d probably look back on this moment and think the exact same.

“If you’re not sure where to start explaining, then how about we try specific questions? You can just say yes or no.”

Squashing down the memories that _that_ suggestion brought back, because now really wasn’t the time, Thomas nodded for him to continue.

“Do you remember the identity of the killer?”

Thomas hadn’t spared much thought to that, only just enough that he was aware of the fact that he did.

He nodded again.

Newt removed his hands from Thomas’ shoulders, the slight smile on his face dropping away. “You don’t have to tell me yet, if you don’t want to. I can wait as long as you need.”

Fuck. That.

Thomas was done with keeping any of this from him.

“It was Mr Janson.”

Newt’s expression didn’t change. “I see.”

“Is that who you thought it was?”

Newt nodded. “He knew everyone that you said would be a victim, and they all trusted him. He worked at Scorch before Glade, did you know that? But I probably wouldn’t have made the connection if it hadn’t been for the car.” He chuckled, but there was no humour in it. “The police noticed that the car you were found in was the same make and model as Janson’s, but they dismissed it as just being a coincidence, seeing at the car had been stolen anyway. But you’re not an idiot. You wouldn’t have gotten into a car with just anyone.”

Thomas smiled. “Funny, I could’ve sworn you were calling me an idiot just the other day.”

Newt gently shoved his shoulder, but smiled back. “You’re an idiot, but you’re not an _idiot._ ”

Thomas’ smile softened. “I did think it was his car. By the time I realised something was wrong, it was too late.”

“Did you actually realise, or did you have to be told?”

It was Thomas’ turn to gently shove his friend’s shoulder.

Newt laughed. “To be fair, you’re pretty bad at seeing what’s right in front of you, so it’s a valid question.”

Thomas sighed. “I was trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for longer than I should’ve done, and let’s just leave it at that.”

Newt opened his mouth as if to say something, then seemed to change his mind, and closed it again. A second passed, and then he said, “As far as I can tell, he hasn’t killed anyone since before your coma. He’s a city councillor now.” Newt reached into his pocket and pulled something out. “In fact, he’s the councillor who’s sponsoring this year’s hospital camp. He changed his name to Peter Llygoden a few years ago.”

Thomas took the leaflet from Newt’s hand and looked it over. “I thought his name sounded familiar.”

“Familiar?”

Chuck had given him the name ‘Llygoden’ when he’d asked about who could’ve seen his work schedule. He remembered that now. _That’s_ why he’d recognised the name when he’d first read it on the flyer.

But Newt didn’t know about any of that.

Thomas turned to face him. Confusion was clear on Newt’s face, but he showed no sign of being about to ask for further explanation.

This blind faith he had in him had gone on for long enough.

“I can also remember how I knew there was a killer in the first place.”

Newt’s expression cleared.

“You don’t have to-”

“I told you that I’d explain everything, just as soon as I was sure that everyone was safe.” Thomas rolled his eyes and smiled. “I’d say we’re way past that by now, wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not disputing that, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. You don’t owe me anything, and there’s-”

Thomas held up a hand, and Newt fell silent. “You’re kidding, right?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Newt, you’ve been there for me this whole time. When I started acting strangely, you’re the only one who was looking at me enough to realise something was wrong. And you believed me. Even though I didn’t have any evidence or a good explanation for what I was doing, you believed me, and you helped me. If it hadn’t been for you, Teresa and Minho would be dead right now. Brenda too. And then there’s the coma. 15 years is a long time, most people would’ve drifted away. But not you.”

“We all-”

“You wrote me a letter explaining everything you knew for certain. You were there when I woke up the second time. You’ve been with me every day since. You’ve been patient, way more than I could’ve been if our positions were switched. You’ve been keeping an eye on the person you suspected, who you _correctly_ suspected, _and_ you’re in a group that’s been investigating the killings in general. So, Newt, it really doesn’t matter if you think that I don’t _at least_ owe you an explanation, because I do. And even if I didn’t, I’d want to tell you anyway.”

That one attempted interruption aside, Newt had been quiet while Thomas spoke. Now that Thomas was done, Newt simply nodded and turned away, hunching over and staring down at his feet.

Thomas waited for a couple of minutes, before asking, “Are you gonna say something?”

Newt choked out a sound that was something between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t know _what_ to say. I mean, bloody hell Tommy.”

“Hey,” said Thomas, reaching out to turn Newt’s face back towards him. Newt offered no resistance, and Thomas could see the tears threatening to start falling. “That’s okay.” He realised his fingertips had lingered on Newt’s cheek and drew his hand back, dimly aware of how Newt’s gaze followed it. “You don’t need to say anything at all.” Thomas huffed a small laugh and ran his hand through his hair. The movement seemed to break whatever daze Newt was in, and his eyes snapped up to meet Thomas’. “But I need you to be brilliant for just a little longer, and hear what I’m about to tell you out.”

Newt nodded. “Anything.”

Thomas took a deep breath.

“I’m a time traveller.”


	84. Chapter 84

Newt blinked.

“Those other memories, the ones where I didn’t fall into a coma, that didn’t make sense, they all really happened. That was the original timeline.” Thomas looked away from Newt, not wanting to see his reactions as he explained. “I don’t know when it started exactly. I haven’t been able to remember that for a long time, so that’s nothing new. But at some point during secondary school I started getting sent back in time. Not far, never more than a few minutes at a time, and it would only happen if something bad happened near me. I’d be stuck in a tiny time loop until I fixed the problem.”

“Define ‘bad’.”

“I’ve stopped someone smashing their phone. I once pulled someone out of the way of a tackle in PE that would’ve otherwise put them in hospital. I’ve stopped a kid from being hit by a train. It varies.”

Newt breathed in sharply. Thomas flicked his eyes to him in time to see him wincing.

He looked back down the stairs. “I call it Revival, and I don’t know how it works or why it happens to me. Just that it does.”

“So, one of these Revivals happened, but instead of being sent back just a few minutes, you were sent back to when we were 11?”

Thomas nodded. “That’s it exactly. But my first attempt failed. Originally, Teresa was murdered on the night before our birthday. On my first attempt at saving her, Janson just got her the next night instead. Not long after that I got sent back to my present for a bit. The changes I’d made had stuck, but everything had pretty much stayed the same. But then I got sent back to the museum.” He smiled weakly. “That’s why I was having to try so hard not to cry. Seeing everyone again, and having another chance to save them, it was a lot.”

“Tommy, look at me.”

He did. He couldn’t see a hint of disbelief on Newt’s face.

“Obviously I have a lot of questions.”

“But you believe me?”

Newt chuckled. “It’s so far fetched, you couldn’t have made it up. And honestly? I’d thought it was something like this. Have done since you said there was a superpower involved. It was either this or premonitions of some sort. I wasn’t gonna ask any more than I already had, though. You said that you’d tell me when you were ready. I didn’t mind waiting.”

Thomas felt relief flood him. He hadn’t known what he would’ve done if Newt hadn’t believed him, but now he wasn’t sure why he’d even been worried about it. Of _course_ Newt believed him.

“Go on then,” he said. “Ask away.”

“What happened that sent you so far back?”

Thomas swallowed. “A normal Revival led to mum interrupting a kidnapping attempt outside a supermarket. Next evening, mum was stabbed in my apartment and I got framed for it. Cue giant Revival.” Thomas shrugged. “It was all Janson, if that’s your next question.”

“I’m guessing you were sent back to the point that your memory was stopping at before?”

Thomas nodded.

“No wonder you were so out of it that day.”

“Yeah, it was a lot to take in.”

“Next question. Chuck? Because both instances of your memories coming back have been immediately preceded by you talking to that kid.”

Thomas smiled. “He’s my friend. _Was_ my friend. We worked at the same pizza place, although he probably doesn’t have that job yet. Talking to him was like having a kid brother. And he helped me during that stint back in my present. He hid me from the police, and gave me a safe place to sleep.” He sighed. “Janson tried to kill him, too. Didn’t succeed, but still. He tried.”

“Wait, were you older than we are now when you got sent back?”

“Yeah, I was 29.”

Newt sat forwards and rested his head in his hands.

“Holy fuck.”

Thomas laughed. “I know.”

“No wonder you-” Newt cut himself off.

“No wonder I what?”

Newt took a deep breath and sat up. “No wonder you suddenly seemed to be more mature.” He smirked. “But not by _that_ much.”

“Rude,” said Thomas, smiling.

“Honest,” Newt shot back, also grinning. “So, any major incidents in the next two years that I should be worried about?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I can confirm that the apocalypse isn’t gonna be happening any time soon.”

Newt laughed. “I suppose that’s always good to know.” He paused. “But seriously, Tommy. 18 years? How was that gonna work? Were you just planning to live your life all over again?”

“Yeah, I was.”

Newt shook his head. “Don’t know why I buggin’ asked, of course you were.”

“What do you mean?”

Newt sighed. “I mean, having to live through all that again is probably among one of my worst bloody nightmares. If I was faced with something like that, I’d-” He stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. “I spent all this time wishing that you’d wake up. But it’s probably better for you that you didn’t.”

“Now who’s being dumb?”

“Huh?”

“Newt,” Thomas said firmly, but not unkindly, “don’t you dare start feeling guilty about wanting me to wake up. I was fully prepared to relive those years. I’d already decided to do it. It would’ve been a chance to actually get it right. I’d have preferred it if the coma hadn’t happened.”

“But even then, you wouldn’t have ended up in a coma at all if I-”

“Stop trying to find ways to blame yourself. It’s bullshit. Cut it out.”

Newt let out a slightly hysterical laugh, but shut up.

Thomas placed a hand on Newt’s arm, trying to reassure him. “What happened _happened._ There’s nothing we can do about it anymore. I’m here _now,_ and that’s what really matters.”

Newt’s eyes darted down away from Thomas’, just for a moment, before returning.

“I hear you, Tommy.”

“Good.” Thomas reluctantly retracted his hand, not wanting to make Newt uncomfortable. “Any more questions?”

“So many. Need to pick one.”

Thomas grinned. “Take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shit,” said Newt, eyes widening as he thought of something. “Should we get back to your room? People might be wondering where we are.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Thomas. “I kinda like it here. No one can overhear us, and besides, like you said, we seem to have a thing about stairwells.”

“Even so-”

“You’ve got your phone, yeah?” He waited for Newt’s nod. “Then they can call you if they get worried.”

“Your doctors probably don’t have my phone number.”

“Brenda does.”

Newt let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “That is very true. I had forgotten about that.”

“To be fair, you’re slightly distracted right now.”

Newt hummed in agreement and fell silent, deep in thought.

Thomas was content to just watch him. He still almost couldn’t believe it. Newt was here, and alive, and sitting right next to him. And he was amazing.

They made eye contact and grinned. Thomas pulled a face and Newt burst out laughing. Not for the first time, Thomas thought that it was one of his favourite sounds.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got one.” Newt sat upright. “It’s pretty shallow though, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Shoot.”

“You said that you’d get back to us on whether or not you’re the only straight guy in our group.”

Thomas laughed.

“I’ve known that I was bi since I was about 16.”

Newt’s smile widened. “Well, I’ve known that I was gay since I was about 10, so I win.”

“How did you know?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Because I got a crush on someone, keep up. Wasn’t all that really recent for you?”

“Oh yeah.”

“How did _you_ know?”

There was absolutely no way Thomas could tell him every detail of that story.

He looked away. “It wasn’t a crush, not really. More of a ‘huh, he’s hot, I’d totally bang him, shit wait’ kinda moment. And then I noticed it with more people, and I had a three month long crisis.”

Newt smirked. “Only three?”

“Shut up.”

“Nope,” he said. “You’re stuck with me.”

Thomas turned his face back towards Newt. “Good that. Never leave.”

Newt’s expression softened. “Ditto you. No more disappearing.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s done now. Before I remembered everything, I could tell that I was missing something. I don’t feel like that anymore.”

“So you’re here to stay? Definitely?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Newt pulled Thomas into a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 500 kudos omg, i love you all <3


	85. Chapter 85

Newt didn’t ask anything more until later that day, when there were back in Thomas’ room. Thomas was lying on his bed, trying to read a book that wasn’t actually very interesting, while Newt sat on a chair in the corner, typing on his laptop.

Thomas looked up when Newt sighed loudly.

“Client trouble?”

“This guy wants part of his logo to be more red, but not _red_ because that’s _too_ red. We’re on our ninth redesign now.”

Thomas winced. “Ouch.”

“And I always have to deal with the difficult people, because Minho just ends up yelling at them.” Newt slammed his laptop shut. “Well, this clown can bloody wait, if he’s gonna be like that.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, probably best to walk away for now.”

Newt stood, placing his computer on the chair behind him, and walked towards the bed.

“Budge up.”

“What?”

Newt pushed on Thomas’ shoulder and waist. “Move over, I wanna lie down.”

Thomas shuffled to the edge of the bed, dropping his book onto the floor beside him.  Newt kicked off his shoes and lay down next to him. The bed was narrow enough that if they’d stayed on their backs they would’ve ended up pressed together, so instead they rolled onto their sides and faced each other to give themselves more room. Thomas could feel Newt’s breath on his face.

He didn’t mind.

“I have another question.”

Thomas gestured for him to continue.

“What were we like? Our group, I mean. Without Minho.”

Thomas’ happy thoughts at being so close to Newt ground to an abrupt halt. He should’ve been prepared to have to talk about this. He looked into Newt’s eyes, and hated that what he was about to say would make them look so sad.

“We fell apart.” Thomas closed his eyes at the first sign of pain entering Newt’s. He couldn’t watch. “It was too painful. Every moment we spent together just reminded us of who was missing. So we stopped trying. We barely spoke through secondary school.”

He felt something rest on his waist and opened his eyes with a start. Newt didn’t retract his hand at Thomas’ jolt, instead pressing down more firmly. He _did_ look sad, but not as much as Thomas had been expecting. Newt brought his gaze up to meet Thomas’ and nodded in understanding.

A thought occurred to Thomas and he frowned in confusion. “How come that didn’t happen this time?”

Newt’s answer was instant, like he didn’t even have to think about it. “Because you weren’t dead. Why would we fracture when you could wake up any day?” He sighed. “If you’d died I’m sure it would’ve been a completely different story. But, not at all? Not even the two of us?”

Thomas shook his head. “We all pretty much avoided each other. Sometimes school meant we _had_ to interact, but we’d always keep it as brief as possible.”

Thomas couldn’t read the expression on Newt’s face, and was pretty sure that he was hiding the full extent of his reaction. “I just can’t picture the two of us apart.”

Thomas smiled. “I know exactly what you mean. That’s probably why-” He cut himself off, desperately hoping that Newt wouldn’t ask him to explain.

Newt was apparently feeling uncooperative with his wishes, because that's exactly what he did. “Why what?”

Why didn’t he ever fucking think before opening his mouth? All he had to do was say nothing, but apparently that was too difficult for him. And there was no way that Newt would accept anything less than the truth, and he _would_ know if Thomas was lying. He always did. Thomas had to be _very_ careful about what he said next.

“We did talk at one point.”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “Just one?”

“Yeah, I know. But it was a very long conversation.”

Newt stared deeply into Thomas’ eyes. “Tell me.”

There was no way Thomas could refuse him anything. At least, not when he was looking at him and speaking to him like _that._

“At the end of all our exams, Sonya threw a massive party.”

Newt relaxed and huffed a laugh. “Fuck, yeah, that was a thing. I spent pretty much the whole time hiding in the bathroom.”

“Were you alone?”

“Yeah. Minho and Teresa came to check on me a couple of times, but they were having fun, y’know? They mostly left me be, and I was okay with that.” He paused. “Shit, sorry, this is supposed to be your story, carry on.”

Thomas smiled. “It’s fine, I’d have asked about that anyway. Originally, I was there with you. I went in there to hide, and you were sitting in the bathtub. I was just gonna leave when I saw you, but you told me to stay.”

“That must’ve been awkward.”

“It was. For about five minutes. Then it was like a dam broke or something. We talked for hours.”

“Really?” Newt’s head lifted off the pillow a fraction as he spoke, his voice betraying his hope. “What about?”

“Everything. School, family, our futures. Minho. How much we’d missed each other. Eventually the bathtub got uncomfortable so we moved into your room. I’m half convinced we were trying to catch up on seven years’ worth of friendship all in one night.” Thomas paused. _Careful._ “It was probably one of the best nights of my life.”

“But then, how come-”

“It was my fault. I left in the morning, convinced that I’d call you. But I never did. I ended up pushing everything about that night to the back of my mind, tried to forget about it.” He shrugged. “I barely even acknowledged it until recently, to be honest. Not until after I woke up the second time.”

Newt frowned. “The only people who stayed the night was the guy who was so drunk he could barely stand, let alone go home, and Harriet. Harriet being Sonya’s girlfriend.”

Thomas tried not to look too guilty as he looked away. “Well, we didn’t want to stop talking, and it got late, and it’s not like you were gonna kick me out, and I’m pretty sure that I ended up falling asleep anyway.”

“Tommy.”

“Yeah?” He hoped he sounded convincingly innocent as he brought his eyes back down to meet Newt’s.

Newt’s fingers curled into his waist just slightly.

He wasn’t buying it.

_Fuck,_ he wasn’t buying it.

“I’m sure you had your reasons for not calling,” he said slowly.

“No, I’m just a dumbass. Although, in my defense, I was 18. Imagine me at 18. I was even more of a mess than I am now.”

The corners of Newt’s mouth quirked upwards. “And I’m sure you had very good reasons to not want to think about it. _Especially_ not once you’d time travelled.”

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, with what he didn’t actually know, but Newt didn’t give him a chance to.

“I’m definitely going to come back to that, but I have another question first.”

Grateful for the temporary reprieve, Thomas said, “Go on then.”

His gratefulness was extremely short lived.

“What about after school?”

“We all lost contact completely. I did, at least. I didn’t keep track of anyone.”

“C’mon Tommy, you’re acting like I don’t know you. There no way you didn’t google us after you got sent back to your present.”

They were fast approaching another danger zone, but one that was dangerous for a completely different reason. “You’re right.”

“So, what were we all up to?”

“You sure you want me to tell you? That’s technically two years in the future.”

“Everything’s different anyway, so I doubt it matters.”

Thomas took a deep breath.

In.

Out.

“Frypan was a cook somewhere. He was pretty easy to find online, all his accounts were public. He might want to fix that by the way, if that’s still true now. If I’d wanted to I could probably have found his home address in just a couple more clicks. Alby was harder to pin down, all I could really do with him was confirm that he still existed.”

Newt chuckled. “So no real change?”

Thomas smiled. “No, I guess not.”

“What about me? No way was I running this business on my own.”

“I couldn’t find any trace of you.”

Newt looked genuinely surprised at that. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I spent ages searching different variations of your name, but found nothing.”

“Did you try searching for Sonya?”

Thomas hesitated.

It was enough.

Newt sighed, closed his eyes, and curled his hand tightly into the fabric of Thomas’ shirt.

“Figures.”

Thomas was terrified of what that could mean, but couldn’t leave it alone. “Figures?”

Newt bit his lip and opened his eyes, his face carefully blank.

“Did I ever tell you about how I broke my leg?”


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end of the last chapter probably makes it obvious, but just in case, there's a lot of talk about suicide and attempted suicide in this chapter. please be careful

Thomas shook his head. “You mentioned that it put you in the hospital, but you’ve never said what happened to it.” He paused. “Don’t feel like you have to, though.”

“I want to tell you.” Newt gave a small smile. “Do you remember that bridge? The one where you told me you had a superpower?”

“Where you stopped me from straight up murdering Teresa’s mother?”

“That’s the one.” Newt relaxed his grip on Thomas’ shirt, letting his hand lie flat on top of the fabric. “That’s pretty much the highest point in town, you know? I mean, there are a few buildings that are taller, but that’s the highest place that’s publicly accessible. Perks of living in a small town, I guess.”

“Newt...”

Newt spoke over him. “I was 20. And I was miserable. Had been for a long time. Having the others around helped a bit.” He paused. “Well, no, they helped a lot. Our friends are brilliant, Tommy.”

Thomas smiled. “I already know that.”

Newt huffed a small laugh, but quickly sobered up. “But even with them there, I still felt, I don’t know, empty? I’m not sure if that’s the right way to describe it.” He closed his eyes, and continued. “Uni was stressing me out, and you were gone, and everyone else was so goddamn happy, and I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t just be the same. So one night I decided that it’d just be easier if I stopped trying altogether. I went to the bridge, climbed over the railing, and-”

He stopped.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “And I jumped off it.” He laughed without humour. “I landed on the ground hard, thought that was it. Either my injuries from the fall would kill me, or a car would come along and finish me off. I was lying pretty flat, so it’s not like someone driving would’ve been able to see me very easily.”

Thomas reached his own hand out and rested it on Newt’s waist. Newt’s eyes flew open.

“Minho found me before that could happen. Apparently I’d said something to Sonya before I left home. I don’t even know what it was, but it scared her, so she called all our friends. They were all out looking for me, even though it was 4 in the buggin’ morning and they’d should’ve been asleep. Minho found me, and he called an ambulance, and he stayed with me the whole time. He let me tell the others that it’d been an accident. I don’t know how many of them bought it. I know Teresa definitely didn’t, but no one else has asked about it so I can’t be sure.” Newt’s eyes moved down to where his hand was resting on Thomas. “My leg was broken in three places, but the rest of me was fine, because I can’t even kill myself right.”

“Hey,” Thomas cut in, “don’t say that.”

Newt regained eye contact with Thomas and smiled. “I don’t really mean it, don’t worry. I’m glad I didn’t die. When I saw Minho, that was pretty much all I could think about. Well, that and the fact that I was in a _lot_ of pain.” Newt shook his head and sighed. “All things considered, it was a very dumb thing to do.”

Thomas had known that Newt had been badly injured at some point. He hadn’t let himself think about it too hard, because he hadn’t wanted to consider his friend hurt and in pain. He wasn’t surprised to find out that it had been self inflicted. Part of him had probably already known, had already put it together. But that didn’t make having his suspicions confirmed hurt any less.

He was just glad that Minho had been there.

He thought over everything Newt had told him about his leg. Not just about his suicide attempt, but also things that he’d referenced over the last few months. Something didn’t add up.

“You were treated at the local hospital, right?”

Newt nodded. “Yeah. They might not have had the facilities for you, but they could deal with broken bones just fine.”

“Then how come you were treated _here_ for your leg too? And how come it still hasn’t healed properly?”

This time, there was a _little_ humour behind Newt’s laugh. “Minho, Teresa, and I moved out here just as I was finishing off rehab. And I, in my infinite wisdom, wanted to go for a run. I’d done some running before then, so it wasn’t like I was being a complete idiot. I _was_ being careful. But I must’ve landed badly or something, because 10 minutes in I just went down.” He grinned. “And I still have a limp to this day.”

Thomas tried to match his grin, but his mouth started moving without his conscious mind’s permission, and said, “I guess this means that Minho finally gets to be the absolute fastest runner out of us three.”

Newt exploded into a fit of giggles. Thomas could feel him shaking with laughter under where his hand lay on his side. Thomas’ smile became a little more genuine.

“God, I love you.”

Thomas’ heart missed a beat, but Newt didn’t mean it like that. None of them had ever been shy about saying that they loved each other. “I’m glad you think I’m funny.”

“It’s even funnier because it’s true. You can barely walk, my leg is a bitch, and _he_ goes out running every bloody morning.”

“What about Gally?”

“Gally stopped giving a shit about that a _long_ time ago.”

Thomas nodded. “That’s good to know.”

Not-quite-love-confessions aside, the conversation had taken a lighter tone. Thomas hated to have to bring it down again, but there was still something he needed to be sure of.

“Are you okay now?”

Newt smiled, understanding him perfectly. “Yes, Tommy, I’m okay. I’m not perfect, but I’m getting there. Teresa made me see a therapist for a while, I’m on medication, and everyone’s really supportive. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them all.” He suddenly fixed Thomas with a hard stare. “Don’t you dare start blaming yourself for it.”

“I wasn’t thinking that!”

“Yes, but if I didn’t say something now, you _would_ have been thinking it within the next couple of hours. Me deciding to jump had very little to do with you. I’m not gonna lie to you, it was a factor. I apparently don’t deal with helplessness very well. But thinking about you made me want to _live,_ not the other way around. So don’t blame yourself. Not for any of it. You hear me?”

Thomas swallowed, and nodded. Newt was right. About everything. “I hear you.”

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, hands resting on each other’s waists, just looking into each others’ eyes. Thomas felt like there were a million things he wanted to say, but couldn’t think of a single one.

Newt was the first to speak. “So. How close was all that to what happened for you?”

Thomas curled his hand into the fabric of Newt’s shirt. “You didn’t jump off the bridge.”

“What _did_ I do?”

Thomas looked away, but then immediately looked back. He couldn’t keep avoiding Newt’s eye, and hoping that would make things easier to say. It wouldn’t. He just had to suck it up and say it.

“You used a gun instead.”

Newt’s eyes widened, and his hand gripped Thomas’ shirt tight.

“The articles I found said that Sonya found you. You were at home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying that?” Thomas paused, trying to organise his thoughts. “Newt, you’d been dead for nine years and I had no idea. You’d _killed_ yourself, and I hadn’t heard about it. The fact that I found out the way I did is on me and me alone. And don’t apologise for doing it, either. I’m not gonna pretend that I get it, because I don’t, but holy shit. It’s not your fault. If there’s anyone I blame for it, it’s Janson.”

“Was that why you were so willing to live your whole life over? Because I’d died so much later than everyone else?”

“I was willing to live it a thousand times, if that’s what it took to save you.”

Newt’s mouth dropped open.

Thomas felt himself blush, and rushed to downplay it. “I mean,” he said, “that’s true, but there were also other things. I’d lost contact with _everyone_ the first time around, so I figured it would be nice to actually have friends though the rest of school, and of course there were the other people who could’ve ended up targets, and-”

Newt’s laughter stopped Thomas’ rambling. “But you’d already done enough. You saved Minho and Teresa, and in turn they saved me.”

Thomas ignored Newt’s fingers slipping under his shirt and onto his skin.

“I didn’t know that, though,” he said.

Newt smiled, softly tracing patterns onto Thomas’ waist. “That version of me had lost everything, hadn’t he?”

“I don’t know what happened to him after the party. I couldn’t say whether it was everything that had already happened, or if there was something else.”

“He was definitely depressed,” said Newt. “I can tell you that much. And the best friends he’d ever had were either long dead or weren’t in contact with him anymore.” He sighed. “Getting a gun takes at least some planning. _I_ lived because it was an impulsive decision.” He paused. “Is this why you started asking if I was okay all of a sudden?”

“Yes.”

Newt nodded. “Thought so.”

“Sorry for scaring you.”

Newt laughed. “It’s fine, I get it. I’m impressed you were able to keep so calm, to be honest. If I’d thought there was even the slightest chance that you were ever gonna do something similar, I would’ve held on to you tight and never let go.”

Thomas had to say something about what Newt’s hand was doing. It wasn’t like it was wandering, its position hadn’t moved, but Thomas wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. “Newt?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

He smirked, looking directly into Thomas’ eyes. “Well, Tommy, I’m talking to you.”

“You know what I mean.”

Newt stopped his hand still, his smile dimming slightly. “Sorry, I can stop.” He went to lift his hand away.

Thomas suddenly knew exactly how he felt about it.

“No!”

Newt froze. His hand had barely lifted a centimetre.

“You can keep going,” said Thomas, hoping against hope that he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. “I don’t mind.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Newt let his hand fall back onto Thomas’ side, fingertips brushing his skin.

The contact felt like fire.

“So,” said Newt as he resumed the tracing of patterns, “are you gonna tell me the rest of the story about that party?”

Thomas shrugged. “Who says there’s more to that story?”

"You, because you’re a terrible liar.”

Oh well, it had been worth a shot.

Thomas sighed. “What happened at that party doesn’t matter anymore. That version of you isn’t who I’m talking to right now. I’m better off not dwelling on it.”

Newt moved his other arm out from under him and reached out to Thomas, sliding it beneath his cheek. Thomas had no idea how to describe the way he was looking at him, but it seemed to be a happy expression, and it made Thomas’ heart clench tight.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“I know that.”

“I’m starting to think that _you_ might be, though.”

Thomas laughed. “ _Starting_ to think? If _that’s_ really the level you’re at, then maybe you _are_ an idiot after all.”

Newt laughed to himself, and rolled his eyes. “Teresa was right.”

“Teresa?”

“Well, she said it first. Others have said it since, but she said it first. I always knew they were right, to be honest. I swear anyone else would’ve caught on by now.”

“Newt,” said Thomas, “what are you talking about?”

Newt’s fingers on Thomas’ waist stopped moving, and Newt used the hand under Thomas’ cheek to make Thomas look into his eyes.

“I love you.”

Again, Thomas could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. Newt sounded so sincere, it was crushing Thomas to know that Newt meant it differently to how he wanted him to.

He let out a nervous laugh. “Well, yeah, I know _that._ We all say we love each other all the time. I love you too.”

Newt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “That’s not what I meant.”

Thomas could barely breathe. He tried to ignore the painful feeling of hope sparking in his chest. “Then what _did_ you mean?”

Newt blinked.

“Fuck it,” he said, and leaned in.


	87. Chapter 87

Newt’s lips brushed against Thomas’.

And before he’d even had a chance to react, Newt was pulling away.

Thomas needed to do something, to say something, but his brain and mouth weren’t cooperating. Not with each other, and definitely not with him.

He knew he’d been silent for too long when Newt’s face fell.

“Sorry, mate,” he said. “I must’ve misinterpreted. Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen, yeah?”

Words still weren’t working, but Thomas _couldn’t_ let Newt think that. Not for a second. And he couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t, because it _had_ and he _wanted_ and if he let this chance slip by he knew that he’d never forgive himself.

So he did the only thing he could think of doing.

He leaned in.

Unlike Newt’s tentative attempt at a kiss, Thomas pressed his mouth more firmly on Newt’s. It took Newt a couple of seconds to react, but react he did. He moved closer, letting his hand slide off Thomas’ waist and instead press into his back. Thomas did the same with his own hand, and they pressed up against each other.

Thomas didn’t know how long they spent like that, but when they had to pause for breath it felt like it was way too soon.

Thomas opened his eyes. When Newt opened his, Thomas almost got lost in them.

Almost.

“You didn’t misinterpret,” he said.

He felt Newt’s smirk, rather than saw it. “Clearly.”

“I’m just an idiot.”

“This is not news.”

Thomas smiled. “Sorry I froze, I didn’t mean for you to think-”

“It’s fine. I probably should’ve asked first.”

“I probably would’ve frozen even if you had. There was no possible way to avoid me freaking out.”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? You don’t wanna go back and check?”

Thomas chuckled. “I can’t control the Revivals. Plus, that was not a bad thing that needed preventing. Plus plus, why would I want to undo it?”

“So you can kiss me again.”

“Can’t I do that anyway?”

“You can.”

So he did.

There was no urgency, no rush. Just the two of them, _finally_ on the same page, with all the time in the world. Neither of them were going anywhere.

When they broke apart, Thomas realised that at some point his hand had slid up Newt’s back and into his hair. Newt didn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite, in fact. His pupils were blown wide, staring down at Thomas’ lips like he wanted nothing more than to go right back to kissing him.

Thomas could relate.

“So,” said Newt, still looking at Thomas’ lips, “which of us kissed the other first at that party?”

Thomas pressed his forehead against Newt’s. “That was me. I’m still not completely sure what was going through my head at that point, but it worked out.”

With great reluctance, Newt brought his gaze up from Thomas’ lips to meet his eyes. He smiled. “I guess it was my turn, then.”

Thomas shrugged. “Not necessarily. I’m just a dumbass, and time travel is the bane of my existence.”

“So you kissed me, and you stayed the night?”

“Yes.”

“Does that-”

“Yes, the implications ‘stayed the night’ did happen.”

“You don’t know that I was gonna ask that.”

Thomas didn’t give that a verbal response, instead pulling his head away just far enough that he could raise his eyebrows at him.

Newt laughed softly. “Okay, I _was_ gonna ask that. Needed to be sure.” He pulled Thomas in closer and tucked his head underneath his chin, by his collar bone. “It must’ve been so weird for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know I’ve already said that I’d hate to suddenly be 11 again, but at least I didn’t know any of my exes when I was that age. If I’d been faced with having to see a child version of someone I’d slept with, then-”

Thomas interrupted him again. “I didn’t let myself think about it. Like, at all. I had enough to be worrying about without the added confusion that even considering that would’ve caused.”

“It was you, you know.”

“What?”

“The person I had a crush on back then. It was you.”

Everything clicked into place. “Oh.”

Newt moved his head and looked up at Thomas, clearly finding this amusing. “That’s all you’re gonna say? Oh?”

“Well it seems obvious now.”

Newt laughed. “Of course it does.”

“Actual 11-year-old me had no idea, I promise. Time-travelling me was ignoring any signs of crushes from anyone, so I completely missed it.”

“Even though you knew that at some point I’d at _least_ been attracted enough to you to have sex with you?”

“Which I was _also_ ignoring.”

“It’s okay, Tommy, I completely get it.” Newt tucked his head back under Thomas’ chin. “Even if it was infuriating at the time, I’m glad you did.”

They lay in silence for a short while, curled into each other. Thomas was constantly having to reassure himself that this was _real._ That Newt was really there. That they’d really kissed. That they were really talking about this. That this was happening.

It felt almost too good to be true.

When Newt spoke again, the words were quiet, spoken into the crook of Thomas’ neck. He had to strain to hear them.

“This is kinda surreal. Not _this,_ but, what happened to that other me. He was _dead._ And he spent that time with you, that now I have no memory of. But _you_ remember it.”

“You’ve spent more time with me in total, and you’re alive, so I’d say you’re coming out ahead.”

Newt laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I mean, on balance I’m coming out ahead, but...”

“What is it?” Thomas prompted.

“Well, I agree with what you said. I’d much rather be here right now than be living his life.” He chuckled. “Or not, as the case may be. But...” he trailed off again.

“What? Spit it out.”

Newt sighed. Thomas could feel the hot breath against his neck. “I’m not making much sense. But still, please don’t make me say it. I _know_ you’re smarter than that.”

“You wanna bet?”

“What would we be betting?”

Before Thomas could respond, Newt pressed his lips against Thomas’ skin. Whatever Thomas had been planning on saying died in his throat as Newt left a trail of kisses up his neck, jaw, before finally catching his lips. The kiss on the lips lasted longer than the kisses to reach that point had been, but Thomas still found himself chasing Newt backwards when he pulled away much, _much_ too soon.

“Okay,” Thomas said, “I get what you’re saying. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Newt’s eyes cleared a little. “You mean-”

“I mean that we have plenty of time for all of that.” He paused. “If you’ll have me?”

Newt’s response came in the form of an almost bone-crushing hug.

“But,” Thomas added, “I should probably get out of the hospital before we do anything more than-”

“Agreed,” said Newt, cutting Thomas off. “I don’t want there to be even the slightest chance of you hurting yourself.”

Newt tucked his head back next to Thomas’ collarbone. Again, they hugged each other without speaking for a while, neither wanting to pull away.

This time, it was Thomas that broke the silence.

He had a question.

“What did you mean by ‘Teresa was right’?”

Newt tightened his hold and buried his head further into the crook of Thomas’ neck, his mouth pressed up against his skin as he spoke. “She’s annoying, that’s what.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, no, I do. She confronted me about my crush on you, remember? She said something then that’s stuck with me. That’s what she was right about.”

“What did she say?”

“Something like _‘Unless I actually say that he’s in love with you he won’t have a clue, and even then I think he might not realise.’_ And guess what. I straight up told you that I loved you, and you thought I was meant it platonically. Here’s a hint, Tommy. With you, I never did.”

“Two things,” said Thomas. “One,” he tapped Newt’s back to punctuate it, “imagine I said the obligatory but-we’re-not-straight joke that I’m sure we’d both think is terrible yet hilarious. Two,” another tap, “I love you too. Have done for a while. Probably longer than I even realise. Please never leave.”

Thomas could feel Newt smiling against him. He echoed their earlier conversation. “Don’t worry, you’re stuck with me.”

“Good that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know, when i was writing these last few chapters, i thought to myself, am i really having three chapters in a row where they just lie in bed and talk to each other??? and then i remembered some of the shit that published authors have pulled, and decided that i can do whatever the hell i want. i doubt anyone's complaining anyway : D


	88. Chapter 88

They would’ve loved nothing more than to spend the rest of time lying next to each other like that. However, they were broken from their reverie by a nurse coming in to check on Thomas, who told them in no uncertain terms that the only person who should be lying on a patient’s bed was the patient themself.

So Newt sat on the chair next to the bed. And, being the occasionally annoyingly sensible person that he was, he brought up the subject that Thomas knew they’d have to deal with eventually, but had hoped they could leave it a little longer.

“What about Janson?”

“What _about_ Janson?”

“He killed people, Tommy. He was gonna kill Teresa and Minho and Brenda, and he tried bloody hard to kill you. And now he’s living the high life? In a position of authority? What are we gonna do about it?”

Thomas thought about it for a couple of minutes, squeezing Newt’s hand all the while so that he wouldn’t worry too much, before saying, “You said there’s a group of you looking into it?”

“Yeah.”

“Get them all here. I think I have the beginnings of a plan, but it would be better if we had more people to bounce ideas off of.”

Newt smiled. “I can do that.”

“The time travel stays between us, though.”

New nodded. “Of course.”

 

It took a couple of days before everyone was available. Sonya was the one hardest to pin down, as she was working on a difficult case that was demanding a lot of her attention.

But soon enough everyone met in Thomas’ room.

Sonya. Minho. Teresa. Vince. Newt.

Most of them were standing up, due to the only two chairs in the room having been claimed by Newt and Teresa. Newt was sat on the one by the bed, and Teresa was sat on the one in the corner.

Vince arrived last. When he saw Thomas, he broke into a massive grin. “Hey, Thomas! Do you remember me? I used to work with your mother at The Right Arm.”

Teresa rolled her eyes. “Come off it, you haven’t seen him since he was like six. Of course he doesn’t remember you.”

“I do, actually,” said Thomas. “Hi Vince, I’m glad you’re here.” He looked around at the group. “All of you. Thank you so much for what you’ve done so far.”

“That isn’t much, man,” said Minho. “There isn’t a lot to go on. We haven’t been able to find out anything that the police hadn’t already found, and this killer’s too good at covering their tracks.”

Sonya shook her head and leaned back against the wall. “Newt said you’d got the rest of your memories back.”

Thomas nodded.

“So spill. Who tried to kill you?”

Thomas felt Newt’s hand attempting to join with his own. He recognised it as an attempt at comfort which, while unnecessary, was appreciated all the same. And there was no way he was going to say no to holding hands with him. Once their fingers were comfortably intertwined, he looked back over to Sonya.

“It was Janson. Our class teacher from that year.”

“That bastard.”

The immediacy of her response made Thomas laugh a little. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Minho shook his head. “Newt,” he said, “why do you have to be right all the time?”

Newt shrugged, a solemn expression on his face. “It’s a curse.”

“Why did you get in the car with him in the first place?” asked Teresa. “Weren’t you supposed to be trying to talk to Beth?”

“I thought she was in the back of Fring Foods’ truck. I thought _that_ because Janson told me she’d gone out the back, and I trusted him.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to think that it could’ve been him.”

“Have you told your doctors that your memory’s fully back?” said Minho.

Thomas shook his head. “If I did that, they’d call in the police to question me about it.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” said Teresa. “Then they can lock him up, and this’ll all be over.”

“No they won’t,” said Thomas.

“Of course they will!”

“No, Tommy’s right.” Newt sighed. “Janson’s a city councillor now. Also, any evidence that he did anything went undetected and is long gone by now. And he hasn’t killed anyone since then, so there isn’t any fresh evidence either.”

“Newt, he tried to kill him!” Teresa shook her head in disbelief. “And who knows how many other people he killed before then?”

Sonya spoke up. “Thomas’ testimony won’t be enough. It could easily be argued that his memories are false, especially if they thought there was a chance that one of us said something to him about our own theories.” She nodded at Newt with a small smile. “I know you didn’t, but that’s what the defense would say, and all they need to do is create reasonable doubt.”

“So, what?” said Minho. “What else can we do? Do we corner him and force him to confess? Do we frame him for something else?”

A moment of silence, and then Thomas said, “I was thinking that we could let him frame himself.”

“Thomas,” said Vince, “what do you mean by that?”

“There’s this camp at the end of August, for patients here. It’s one night, and it’s especially popular with the kids and physical therapy patients. And Janson’s sponsoring it this year.”

Newt’s grip tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Before he sent the car into the water, he said that I’d ruined his plans. That I’d stopped him from killing the people he’d wanted to.” Thomas pretended not to see how Minho went a little pale at that. “He _also_ said that him killing me wasn’t personal, and that he just wanted to kill something. Whether that was true or not, I don’t know, but I can’t imagine how angry my survival must’ve made him.”

“So you think he’s gonna go after you at this camp?” said Teresa.

“Not exactly.” He felt Newt move to say something, and rubbed a thumb over Newt’s to try and reassure him. He’d probably figured out where he was going with this. “I don’t doubt that he’d be willing to kill an adult, but it’s not his style. His intended victims back then were all kids, mostly little girls. If he’d killed other people before, and I bet he _has,_ they were probably kids too. No, if he wanted to get at me then he’d kill a child and find a way to frame me for it.”

Teresa was the first to speak. When she did, her voice was devoid of any emotion. “You mean Cheyenne.”

Thomas nodded. “She’s my friend, which means it would make the most sense for him to target her.”

“Right,” said Minho. “So, I’m guessing that this camp would create the perfect opportunity for him to hurt her, right? Is she supposed to be going?”

“Yes to both,” said Thomas.

“Then we stop her. We find a way. Maybe we can make her miss the bus?”

“No, Min,” said Teresa before Thomas had a chance to do so. “Think about it for a second. When _we_ were kids, Janson just replaced his chosen targets with Tom. If we stop him getting to Cheyenne, what’s to say he won’t just kill another kid at random? And if he does that, there’s no way we can predict his actions, and we certainly won’t be able to catch him.”

He looked at her incredulously. “So you’re saying we should use her as bait? For a serial killer? Who preys on little girls?”

Teresa flinched. “I don’t like it any more than you do!”

“But,” Newt cut in before either of them could get truly angry at each other, “it might be the best option we have. I’ve already volunteered to help out, so I’ll be there too, and able to keep a close eye on her. We’ve got a fairly good idea of what Janson’s techniques are, so we should be able to counter them. Ideally, the longer it goes on, the more reckless he’ll get, and he’ll slip up.” A pained look crossed his face, and he said, “He might even try and confront Tommy directly.”

“Or he might not show up at all,” added Sonya, “and all this worrying would’ve been for nothing.”

Minho put his head in his hands. “You’re all insane.”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who suggested framing him for something else entirely. _This_ is making sure that he gets caught for something he actually did. The concepts aren’t dissimilar.”

Without looking up, Minho pointed a finger at Newt. “You, shut up and stop being _right_ all the time.”

Newt laughed softly, but didn’t respond.

“So we get absolute proof that Janson’s killed people. _Then_ can we go to the police?” said Teresa.

Thomas nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, yes.”

Minho finally looked up. “I’d feel better about this if there were more people there to keep an eye on Cheyenne.”

“That’s fine,” said Thomas, “but I’d rather not do anything to make her suspicious. She deserves the chance to have fun and make friends. If we scare her, she won’t do that, and that’s not fair on her.”

Minho hesitated, but then nodded.

“Did you say it was at the end of August?” said Teresa.

“Yeah,” said Thomas.

“Then I can’t go. I wish I could, but work says they need me in every day for the second half of that month.” She sighed. “I’ve already tried to get some days off booked around then, because the weather should hopefully be really nice, but they said no.”

“I’ll go,” said Minho. “I’ll sign up today.”

“I’d best not,” said Sonya. “I want to see this guy get locked up personally, but if I’m too closely linked to the case then it’ll get assigned to someone else.”

Vince thought for a second, then said, “I’ll go along as well, but not as an official volunteer. I should have more freedom to act that way.”

“So that’s the plan? Try to keep the kid safe, and hope that Janson fucks up? That’s it?” Minho said, not looking wholly convinced.

Thomas shrugged. “It’s more of a plan than I had before, and that worked out okay.”

Newt huffed a laugh. “I don’t know if I’d call a 15 year long coma, with a relapse that lasted for over another year, _‘okay’_.”

“I didn’t know about Janson back then. I do now. He won’t be able to pull one over me again.” He looked up at the group. “Or any of us.”

Looking much more sure of themselves, they all nodded their agreement.


	89. Chapter 89

Sonya and Vince didn’t hang around once the discussion was done. They both had things they needed to be getting back to. Minho and Teresa didn’t, and had hired a babysitter to look after Deedee for the day, so they were free to stay for longer.

Now that the other two were gone, Minho sat on the end of Thomas’ bed, not wanting to be the only one standing up. “So,” he said to Thomas, “how’s Newt been? We’ve hardly seen him for ages.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “I literally saw you two yesterday, don’t be dramatic.”

Minho grinned. “I have every right to be as dramatic as I want, especially when it comes to you two being ridiculous.”

“Minho,” Teresa hissed, “stop it.”

Minho put his hands up in surrender.

Thomas was fairly sure he could guess what Minho was trying to imply, and why Teresa had shut him down. He glanced at Newt, silently asking if they should tell them.

Newt caught his eye, smirked, and shrugged. Thomas understood him perfectly.

_ ‘It’s up to you.’ _

Thomas squeezed his hand in response, his smile widening as he turned back to face the other two.

They could have some fun with this.

“Newt’s been amazing,” he said. “And unless he’s been sneaking in to watch me sleep and bribed the nurses to keep quiet about it, he  _ has  _ been spending his nights at home.”

Newt laughed and shook his head. “I can confirm that I haven’t been creeping on you.”

“What about during the day?” asked Teresa. “There can’t be all that much to do here.”

Honestly, they’d spent most of their time over the last few days kissing each other. But Thomas wasn’t about to  _ say  _ that.

“Oh, That’s not an issue,” he said, waving his free hand to dismiss her concerns. “We find ways to entertain ourselves.”

Newt choked back another laugh as he caught on to what Thomas was doing.

Teresa smiled. “It’s good you’re not getting too bored.”

“Believe me,” said Thomas, “there’s no way I could possibly be bored with Newt around.”

Teresa glanced down to where their hands were joined. “Are you aware that you’re still holding hands?” she said slowly.

Thomas looked her dead in the eyes. “Yes.”

Teresa frowned in confusion, and turned towards Newt.

Thomas looked at him out of the corner of his eye to see that Newt was looking back at him, with an expression on his face that could only be described as fond. It wasn’t the first time Newt had looked at him like that, but now that Thomas knew what it meant it was almost overwhelming.

He swallowed and brought his focus back around to Teresa.

It only took her a couple more seconds to figure it out.

When she did, a wide smile crept onto her face. “I expect details.”

“Details of what?” Minho turned to face the three of them in turn. “What’s going on?”

Teresa shot them a questioning look, and Newt shook his head almost imperceptibly. She nodded, getting it.

Minho needed to work this one out for himself.

“So how have  _ you two  _ been?” asked Thomas.

“We’ve been great!” said Teresa. “Deedee’s growing up so fast! You haven’t seen her in ages have you?”

“I’ve only seen her once.”

“That has _ got  _ to change. I’ll bring her along soon, okay? It’ll do her good to see her Uncle Newt and Uncle Thomas.”

“Uncle?” Thomas shook his head in disbelief. “Teresa, I-”

“They’ve been calling you Deedee’s Uncle Thomas since before Deedee was born, Tommy.” Newt shook his head. “There’s nothing you can say or do to stop them now. Just accept it.”

Thomas smiled. “That’s really kind of you.”

“Oh please, it’s nothing.” Teresa grinned. “I just expect you two to return the favour one day.”

Newt stifled a giggle while Thomas sighed. “Yes,” said Thomas, “you two can be the aunt and uncle of our extremely hypothetical children.”

“Okay,” said Minho. “I’ve  _ definitely  _ missed something.”

“Hey, Minho,” said Thomas. “You wanna know what Newt and I discovered the other day?”

“...What?”

“The only people allowed to lie on hospital beds are the patients themselves. We got told off when a nurse saw him lying next to me. So, unfortunately, us sharing during the night isn’t possible.” He paused for impact. “Yet.”

Minho’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Wow,” said Teresa. “I’ve married a moron. He’s almost worse than you, Tom.”

Newt shook his head firmly. “I guarantee he isn’t.”

Teresa tilted her head in thought. “No, you’re right. Min’ll get it in a second. Was I right?”

“About him not getting it even when  _ told to his face?  _ Completely.”

Finally, Minho understood.

He jumped to his feet.

“You two!”

Newt smirked. “Yes, Minho?”

“You’re a thing! You’re together! When did it happen?  _ How  _ did it happen? Tell me everything!”

_ “Tell me more, tell me more,”  _ Teresa sang under her breath.

“There’s not much to tell,” said Thomas.

“We were talking about his memories, and I told him about my leg, and he said something that wasn’t  _ really  _ all that funny but I still found it hilarious and it just sorta slipped out. Except he didn’t understand what I’d said. So I thought why the hell not, and said it again. But he still didn’t get it. I had to kiss him before he realised what I meant.”

Thomas groaned. “You’re making me sound dumber than I am.”

“I’m really not, love.”

Thomas’ breath caught.

_ Love. _

Newt didn’t seem to notice what he’d just said. If Teresa’s grin was anything to go by, though,  _ she  _ did.

“So you’re not gonna spend all your time pining after him now?” asked Minho.

Newt tutted. “I did not pine.”

“You did.”

“I did not spend the  _ entire time  _ pining,” Newt amended.

Minho nodded. “That’s better. But you’ve got to admit, you are the poster child for pining.”

“Remind me again how long you had a crush on Teresa for before either of you said anything?”

“Hey, why are you picking on me?”

“Because,” Newt said, “Teresa might be sitting there with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen plastered on her face, but at least  _ she  _ isn’t trying to embarrass us. You reap what you sow, my friend.”

“She’s the one who started singing Grease, not me.”

“She is,” said Thomas. “But the only person she was embarrassing with that was herself.”

Teresa found that incredibly funny. Her laughter filled the room.

  
  


Later, when it was just Newt and Thomas, Thomas decided to leaf through the packet that Newt had given him before any of his memories came back. He hadn’t looked at any of the news articles yet, and he was curious about how everything had been reported.

Before he could read a word of those, he looked over Newt’s letter once more.

“I cried when I first read this.”

Newt looked up from his laptop. He was back in the chair in the corner, having dubbed it his work station while they were there. “Huh?”

“Your letter.” Thomas held it up to show him. “It made me cry when I read it the first time.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine.” He read a few more lines. “You’ve mentioned writing other letters to me?”

Newt laughed softly. “Yeah, I did. I can’t remember who suggested it. It might’ve been my mum, but I don’t know. It was supposed to help me cope. To process.”

“Did it work?”

Newt shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Can I see them?”

He laughed again. “They’re a mess, Tommy. They range from dull descriptions of my day, to emotional outpourings that I can’t bring myself to reread even now.”

“You don’t have to share them if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna make you.”

Newt smiled apologetically. “Thanks, but really I’m the one sparing  _ you  _ by keeping them away from you.”

“What have we said about thanking each other?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “That you’re annoying as shit?”

Thomas exaggerated a gasp. “I cannot believe you would say such a thing!”

Newt laughed and resumed typing.

Thomas looked back at the papers in his hand. He put Newt’s letters to one side and glanced over the two drawings. He smiled again at the page of doodles, before focusing on the other one.

The clocks.

“Hey, Newt?”

“Yes Tommy?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” He held the drawing up so he could see. “What did you mean by the note on the back of this? It says  _ ‘Am I right?’ _ ”

“Oh, that.” Newt paused for a moment, then said, “It’s like I told you. I figured that you could either  _ see  _ the future, or you were  _ from  _ the future. Either way, clocks are appropriate, and that drawing was inspired by that idea. I wrote that note on it at the last second, because I was dying to know, but also I didn’t want to push you if you didn’t want to talk about it. You could’ve pretended not to notice.”

“Well,” said Thomas, “you were right.”

Newt laughed. “I know that now.”

“And I’m glad I could be a source of inspiration for your art.”

Newt shrugged. “It wasn’t the first time.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he froze, like he hadn’t realised what he was saying until it had been too late to stop it.

Thomas laughed softly. “It’s okay,” he said, “don’t worry about it.” He thought for a few seconds, then sad, “Should we tell everyone else? You know, about us?”

Newt smiled, seemingly grateful for the change of subject. “Nah, we’re good. Minho’ll do it for us within a week.”

“That’s if anyone believes him.”

“They’ll believe him when Teresa backs him up. He may have a history of banging on about nonexistent couples, but Teresa’s track record is sound.”

“And you’re okay with everyone knowing?”

Newt’s smiled softened. “Of course. Are you?”

Thomas nodded. “Definitely.”

“Good.” Newt turned back to his computer, only to immediately look back up, his hand reaching into his pocket. “Here, this is for you,” he said, throwing an item towards Thomas.

Thomas caught it and took a good look. “A burner phone?”

“It’s got all our numbers loaded into it. Your mum said she’s getting you a proper phone soon, but you can use that in the meantime.” He grinned. “It can make calls and send basic text messages. That’s it. Nobody’s gonna cry if that thing dies a horrific death, it was dirt cheap.”

Thomas laughed, and nodded at him. He couldn’t verbally thank him, having literally just called him out for doing just that, so he hoped that a nod would suffice.

It did. Newt nodded back, and turned back to his laptop.

A few minutes of silence passed. Thomas knew he should leave it alone. Newt had barely gotten any work done since.... Well. Since. He’d been preoccupied. Thomas needed to give him a chance to get caught up. He could manage a couple of hours.

He couldn’t manage a couple of hours.

“Newt?”

“Yes?”

“Are you doing anything important right now?”

He laughed. “Not really. Why?”

“Come here.”

Newt was more than happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to be moving into uni over the next couple of days, and then it's freshers' week, so i can't guarentee that the next update will be up as quickly as they usually are. i'm probably putting a oneshot up before the next chapter anyway, and it'll definitely be within the week, but just a heads up : D


	90. Chapter 90

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand i'm back !!! sorry this is a little later than anticipated, i've been very busy and also social. hopefully things will calm down enough now for there to not be any other big breaks like that, but updates are probably going to slow down a bit until this is done (i have another oneshot i want to write and ideally would want it up before the main fic ends, but who knows if that'll happen)

August came faster than Thomas had expected.

By then, Thomas still needed crutches to walk, and couldn’t manage long distances without breaks, but aside from that he was pretty much fine! The stairs weren’t as much of an issue anymore, and he was confident that he’d be able to walk completely unaided really soon.

He was looking forward to it.

A few days before the camp, they found out that aside from actual hospital employees, only patients and volunteers aged under 18 could travel to the campsite on the official bus. Everyone else had to make their own way up.

Meaning that Thomas wouldn’t be able to travel with Newt, Minho, or his mother.

When they were told this, Minho took one look at his friends’ faces and choked back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous, you know that, right? Spending a couple of hours in different vehicles isn’t gonna kill you.”

“It might,” said Thomas.

Newt rolled his eyes. “Just make sure your phone’s charged, okay? Your actual phone, not the cheap one. Although charge that one too.”

“Why does he need his phone charged?” asked Minho.

Newt grinned. “So we can talk on the journey.”

Minho sighed. “I don’t know why I even asked.”

 

Thomas ended up sitting next to Cheyenne. He sat down first, next to a window, and she chose to sit in the seat next to him. Chuck sat in the seat across the aisle.

Chuck said hello, which Thomas returned. They’d spoken a lot over the past few weeks, and Thomas felt sure that he could now call Chuck a friend. But it didn’t come anywhere close to how they’d used to be.

When all this was over, when everyone was safe and Janson had been locked away for good, then Thomas could maybe try to recreate their old relationship. Until then, he didn’t want to risk him getting hurt. Chuck’s involvement last time had nearly gotten him killed. Thomas wasn’t going to let it happen again.

And if then meant they were never able to be as close as they once were? Well, that was just the price he’d have to pay.

He’d gotten everything else he wanted, after all.

As Cheyenne chatted excitedly to Chuck about how much she was looking forward to going back to school in the next few days, Thomas checked his phone. He’d already felt it buzzing in his pocket.

Newt had sent him a picture of his mother and Minho carrying way too much, and not being able to unlock the car door.

Thomas stifled a laugh.

 

_you could help them you know_

 

He only had to wait a few seconds for the response.

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_I did after, but the picture was too good to pass up x_

 

_?how’s it looking_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_Minho’s already commandeered the music selection_

_Dunno what this radio station even is_

_It’s not that bad though_

 

Again, Thomas had to stop himself from laughing. It wasn’t really all that funny, but taking control of the music sounded exactly like something Minho would do.

“What’cha smiling at?”

Thomas looked up to see Cheyenne grinning at him.

“I’m just messaging someone.”

“Is it Newt?”

He sighed good-naturedly. “Yes, it’s Newt.”

“Is he your boyfriend or something?”

“Yes, he is.”

She nodded. “Good,” she said, “because he really likes you.”

Thomas laughed. “I kinda gathered that.”

She nodded again. “I’ll leave you to it then,” she said, and turned back to Chuck.

 

_??chey knew you liked me_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_Pretty sure you’re the only one who didn’t tbh_

 

_???how can i have been the only one_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_I’m not subtle_

 

_/i was /busy_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_I know <3 _

_On another note, have you done the thing?_

 

_not yet_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_Do it asap_

 

_quit nagging_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_You love me_

 

_yeah i do xx_

 

Thomas locked his phone and slid it into his pocket, bringing out the other one in its place. The cheap, burner phone that Newt had given him.

He tapped Cheyenne on the shoulder.

She turned to him. “Yeah?”

“I have an idea.”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Okay? Are you planning on sharing it, or are you just happy to have one?”

Thomas laughed. “No, I’m gonna share it. I was thinking that we could switch phones during the trip.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna be doing a lot more running around than me, so whatever phone you’ve got with you is much more likely to get smashed or lost, which wouldn’t be good. But if this one gets damaged, it doesn’t really matter.”

She’d already been holding her phone in her hand, and gripped it tightly as she spoke. “But this is _my_ phone. It’s got all my-”

“This one’s got everyone’s numbers you could possibly need. It’s got your parents’, my mother’s, Chuck’s, Newt’s, everyone’s. You probably won’t even need them, but it’s good to have them just in case.”

She sighed. “I _guess_ that makes sense, but it seems a bit pointless.”

“You’re not gonna be using your phone much anyway,” Chuck chimed in. Thomas sent him a grateful smile. “So if Thomas wants to hang on to it for you, I say let him.”

Cheyenne took a moment to digest Chuck’s words, and turned back to Thomas.

“You won’t go snooping through my messages?”

“I promise.”

“Okay then, fine.” She handed her phone over, and slid Thomas’ cheap one into her pocket. “If my phone gets damaged _at all,_ then-”

“I’ll pay for it, but don’t worry, that won’t happen.” Thomas gestured to his legs. “Running around isn’t exactly on my to-do list.”

He got a laugh out of that, from Cheyenne _and_ from Chuck.

He felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled his real phone out to have a look.

 

**_From: Minho_ **

 

_your bf wnts to know if you’ve done it yet, bt d/n wnt to ask in case you haven’t_

 

_?am i getting ignored until he’s sure i have_

 

**_From: Minho_ **

 

_looks like_

 

Thomas couldn’t help but smile as he opened up a new message to Newt.

 

_you can stop restraining yourself now_

_i’ve done the thing_

 

His response came less than 10 seconds later.

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_How did it go?_

 

_she was a bit confused, but very little convincing was needed_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_That’s good!_

 

It _was_ good. Beyond just generally being aware of what Janson was like, making sure that Cheyenne didn’t have access to her own phone was something they needed to do in order to keep her safe.

Even if it didn’t turn out to be necessary, it was much better to be safe than sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you didn't see, i put up another [oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144508) yesterday!! it's chuck's pov of the events of the first two timelines : D


	91. Chapter 91

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what's the new update schedule for this?? the answer seems to be, when i remember at a time that i'm near to my computer but also not in the middle of a lecture. if that means weekly, then that means weekly. sorry peeps, i'll sort myself out soon hopefully
> 
> also freshers flu is very real and really sucks, pray for me

The bus reached the campsite first.

Cheyenne was one of the first to get off, while Thomas was one of the last. She somehow contained her excitement enough to wait for him, but once his feet hit solid ground she dashed off towards the main site.

Chuck laughed and walked with Thomas as they followed.

The campsite was made up of a large field, surrounded by trees. In amongst the trees were cabins, one of which Thomas would be staying in overnight. There was also a large lake, that Cheyenne was staring out at when they reached her.

“Look!” she said, pointing out across it. “You can see a mountain on the other side!”

Chuck laughed. “You’re being a little dramatic there. That’s just a hill.”

She crossed her arms. “Hills are tiny. _That’s_ not tiny.”

“Well,” said Thomas, “I know I won’t be climbing that any time soon, but it’s definitely not a mountain. I bet you and Chuck could get to the top with no trouble.”

“I’m a lot smaller than both of you, so to _me_ it looks like a mountain.”

Chuck threw up his arms in surrender. “Okay, fine, you win. It’s a mountain.”

More and more people were arriving by now. Thomas turned back towards where the various cars and buses were parked, trying to see if his mum’s car was there yet.

“He’ll probably text you when they get here, you know,” said Chuck.

“Yeah, but I still wanna keep an eye out.”

One of the trip organisers stood in front of the big tent that was acting as a main base and yelled out, “Everyone aged 15 and under, come here please!”

Cheyenne flashed a grin at Thomas and Chuck, and rushed off to join the rest of the group.

“She’s energetic,” said Thomas.

“She is,” agreed Chuck. “It’s good to see her like this.”

“Wasn’t she always?”

Chuck shook his head. “Cancer, man. It’s awful.”

“Oh.” Thomas turned to look back out at the water. “I didn’t really know her then.”

“But she’s healthy now, and hopefully she’ll stay that way.” Chuck shrugged. “This trip should be good for her. She wasn’t able to go last year.”

Thomas smiled. “I’m sure she’ll have a wonderful time.”

He would make sure of it. No matter what.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

He quickly turned as he pulled it out, already anticipating what he would see.

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_We’re here. Where are you?_

 

_by the lake xx_

 

Thomas saw Newt, Minho, and his mother carrying some bags to the main tent. They dumped them down beside it and made their way over to where Thomas and Chuck were standing.

“How was the journey?” asked Thomas’ mother.

“It was good, thanks,” said Chuck.

“Hey,” said Newt.

“Hi,” said Thomas.

Minho rolled his eyes. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Thomas sighed. “All we did was say hello!”

“Yes, but you can’t _see_ yourselves right now. And it’s ridiculous. Surely the heart eyes and soft voices aren’t necessary at this point?”

Newt flung an arm around Minho’s shoulder. “Gotta disagree with you there, Min. They’re _always_ necessary.”

“Whatever man, just remember you’re assigned to be in a tent with me tonight.”

Newt raised his eyebrows at him. Chuck mostly failed at suppressing a snigger.

Minho shook his head. “But I’ll be sure to enjoy the extra room.”

Newt ruffled Minho’s hair. “Thanks mate, you’re a star.”

Thomas’ mother - who Thomas realised must not have been listening properly, otherwise she’d _definitely_ have made some sort of comment about them needing to be safe - smiled and said something about finding someone, and walked off. More and more people were arriving and milling about. The helpers hadn’t been given their jobs yet, and none of the activities for the patients had started either. Most people were looking a little lost, just waiting for something to do.

Another person came out of the main tent, this time calling for all volunteers aged under 18. Chuck gave Thomas and the others an apologetic smile and walked over to be briefed.

Newt pulled his phone out. “Okay,” he said as he looked at it, “Vince has arrived. He’s not gonna come onto the actual campsite if he can help it, but he’s around.”

“That’s good,” said Thomas. “There’s a lot of people here.”

“Yeah, there is.” Newt put his phone away.

“So, now what?” asked Minho.

“We’re probably going to be called and briefed next. Then I think it’s food, and after that there should be some activities running.”

“How do you know all that?”

Newt gave Minho a deadpan look. “Because I read the itinerary we were given.”

Minho let out an embarrassed laugh. “That would explain it.”

“Have you got it with you?” asked Thomas.

Newt nodded.

“Can I take a look?”

“Sure, Tommy,” said Newt, shifting his bag off his shoulders. He opened the front pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

Thomas looked it over. A lot of the planned activities were aimed at the children, and he knew that he’d probably end up just going along with whatever Cheyenne decided she wanted to do.

“We’re most likely gonna have to spend today putting up tents and showing people to their cabins, so you and Chuck will have to manage without us for now,” said Newt.

“Just me, you mean,” said Thomas. “Chuck doesn’t know anything about it.”

Minho’s eyes widened. “Why not?”

He handed the itinerary back to Newt. “Because I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Minho looked at him incredulously.

Thomas sighed. “I wouldn’t put it past Janson to try and hurt anyone trying to stop him. You guys got involved pretty much on your own, and you’re responsible for yourselves. But Chuck’s a kid, and I don’t want to put him at risk.”

“But-”

“Minho,” cut in Newt, “drop it.”

Thomas caught Newt’s eye and smiled in thanks. Of course, Newt knew the full story, and understood Thomas’ thought process better than anyone else ever could.

The children were released from their briefing and scattered. Cheyenne came over to rejoin the group at the lake’s edge.

“What did they say?” asked Thomas.

She shrugged. “It was just a safety talk. _‘Don’t pick up strange items, don’t get in a tent or cabin that you aren’t assigned to, don’t wander off on your own.’_ Stuff like that. It was all pretty standard.”

Thomas nodded, pointedly ignoring the way that Minho was elbowing Newt in the ribs. “Well, it’s good they told you that, anyway. It’s important that you listen.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes _mum._ Don’t worry, I listened.”

Thomas laughed. “Do you know what activities there are?”

She nodded excitedly.

The rest of the volunteers were called. Minho clapped Thomas on the shoulder, before walking away. Newt smiled at Thomas, said that he’d be back soon, and followed.

Thomas turned back to Cheyenne. “Which one are you thinking of doing first?”

“There’s a treasure hunt! We can get a map, and it’ll take us all around the campsite, and the first group back will get a prize!”

That sounded like a lot of walking. Fast walking, too.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

She must’ve detected the reluctance in his voice, because she immediately did her best imitation of a sad puppy.

Thomas broke within seconds.

“Okay, fine, just stop doing that!”


	92. Chapter 92

Newt was right about the order of events.

Once everyone had been briefed about what they’d be doing over the next day, and safety regulations, and this and that and everything else, barbecues were set up, all in a row. Thomas’ mother commandeered one at the end, and Thomas, Newt, Minho, Chuck, and Cheyenne sat on some chairs that had been set up next to it. There were enough barbecues around that they didn’t need to share with anyone else.

Thomas’ mother seemed distracted, though. Her focus wasn’t fully on what she was doing.

“Here,” said Minho after a few minutes of watching her, “let me do it.” He gently pushed her out of the way and took the tongs from her.

She smiled and sat in the chair that Minho had just vacated.

“You okay, Mary?” asked Newt.

“Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“You’re clearly not,” said Thomas.

His mother shrugged. “It’s just, your old teacher, Mr Janson. He’s here as one of the volunteers.”

Minho nearly dropped the tongs. “Really?” he said. He was trying to keep his voice level, but Thomas could hear the strain in it.

Thomas’ mother shook her head. “Nah, I’m kidding.” She relaxed fully into the chair. “I’m just being silly, ignore me.”

Thomas, Newt, and Minho all silently exchanged glances.

There’d always been a chance that Janson wouldn’t show up. That maybe he really _had_ lost interest in hurting or killing anyone. But Thomas had predicted that Janson wouldn’t be able to let his survival go, and it was looking like he’d been correct.

Janson was here.

They needed to make sure that Cheyenne was with someone at all times. Coming here with her may have lured Janson out, but there was no way they were going to allow him to get anywhere near her.

Small nods shared with the other two told Thomas that they understood this perfectly.

“So,” said Minho, changing the subject, “what are you guys planning to do this evening?”

“Treasure hunt!” said Cheyenne, a large grin breaking out onto her face.

“Are you guys gonna be able to join us?” asked Chuck.

“I’d love to, but we’re on tent duty,” said Minho.

At Chuck’s questioning look, Newt elaborated. “The tents for the kids and volunteers need to be put up, and then everyone needs to be told where they’re sleeping tonight. That’s our job. I’m sure you three will manage to have plenty of fun without us.”

“But,” added Minho, “we can all watch the fireworks together. I hear they’re always good.”

Cheyenne nodded vigourously “They are! The display two years ago was _so_ pretty, I was really sad I couldn’t come last year.”

“Well,” said Thomas’ mother, “you’re here now.”

Thomas caught Newt’s eye and smiled. Watching fireworks with him sounded really nice. He couldn’t wait.

“Okay, who wants the first burger?” asked Minho.

Thomas pointed to Cheyenne, who happily accepted it.

“Tommy should get the next one,” said Newt.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I think Chuck should have it.”

Minho sighed. “Or, seeing as two more are ready now, you could both get yours at the same time?”

Thomas let out a small laugh. “Sounds good, thanks Minho.”

It didn’t take too much longer for everyone to have one. Minho put the cooking equipment to one side so he could eat his, but they all knew that he would go right back to making more the moment he was done.

It had been years since Thomas had had a barbecue. He hadn’t had friends to either invite or to invite him to one throughout his teenage years, and after that he’d moved to the city, which didn’t exactly lend itself to having barbecues. He’d probably been in primary school last time he’d been to one of these.

Which, come to think of it, was still true now.

He laughed.

Newt swallowed his bite. “Care to share?”

“It’s nothing, just, I haven’t been to one of these since primary school.”

Newt was the first to laugh. He tried to keep it contained, but he very quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles that made everything seem just a little bit brighter.

When Minho realised what Thomas had said, he groaned, but there was a smile on his face.

His mother just sighed. “Are jokes like that going to become a thing with you?”

Thomas grinned. “Probably not, but I can’t be sure. Not yet.”

She shook her head in fond exasperation.

Cheyenne pulled her bag from the ground to her lap and started rooting around inside.

“What’cha lookin’ for?” asked Chuck.

“My water bottle,” she replied. “I could’ve sworn it was just...” She trailed off as her hands froze, before she reached in to grab something specific.

Assuming that she’d found her bottle, Thomas stopped looking at her and went back to eating his food.

  


Thomas, Chuck, and Cheyenne were among the first in line to be given their sheet for the treasure hunt. On the sheet was a table, where they needed to fill in where each of the markers were, and the clue for the location of the first one.

It wasn’t hard to find. It was by the entrance sign.

The next marker was beside one of the cabins. The next was by the main tent. They passed Newt on the way to that one, but didn’t stop for long. Cheyenne really wanted to win, and dragged Thomas away once they’d said hello.

Well, as much as she could. He was still using crutches, after all.

“Come on! We don’t have time!”

Chuck brought up the rear, laughing.

“So,” he said once they’d ticked their current location off, “where’s the next one?”

Cheyenne read out the clue on the piece of card next to the tent. _“The swaying ground.”_

Chuck turned to Thomas. “Any idea what that could mean?”

Thomas shook his head. “Not a clue.”

Cheyenne bit her lip in thought, then suddenly jumped to her feet. “I know where it is!”

“Cool,” said Chuck. “Where is it?”

“If you go through the woods, up the hill here, there’s a rope bridge over part of the lake that leads to a viewpoint. It’s probably there!”

Cheyenne tried to run off, but Chuck grabbed her t-shirt before she could get too far away. “You’re gonna need to slow down.”

She pouted, but complied.

Thomas didn’t find walking through the trees on an upwards incline fun in the slightest. He could tell that Cheyenne was trying her hardest to be patient and understanding, but she quickly was getting frustrated with his slow pace, and occasional pauses. _He_ was getting frustrated with it, and it was _his_ pace. Thankfully, Chuck’s patience was genuine, and Thomas didn’t feel quite so guilty when he wasn’t the one telling her to stop running ahead.

The rope bridge was wide and sturdy. Even with the three of them on it, it only actually swayed a little. But it _did_ sway, so it fit the description.

When they were halfway across, Cheyenne peered over the edge. “It’s a long way down.”

Chuck made a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a laugh. “Yes, Chey, it is.”

She shuddered as she pulled herself back upright. “Imagine falling from here. You’d hit water, and it’s pretty deep, but still. That’s gotta hurt.”

Thomas blinked away the image that her words had inadvertently conjured up in his mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about that.

“Just get to the other side already,” said Chuck.

Cheyenne shrugged and did just that.

When Thomas got to the other side, he saw a bench, and thought that he’d never seen anything better. He practically collapsed onto it.

“You alright?” asked Chuck.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Thomas replied, “you just go with Chey to find the next clue.”

It turned out to only be a few paces away, so they were back at Thomas’ side within a couple of minutes.

Thomas was still recovering, so Chuck took a moment to appreciate the view. “You can see for miles from here!”

Cheyenne beamed. “This would be a great place to watch the fireworks from!”

Chuck hummed in agreement. “Yeah, it would be.”

Thomas turned to look, and he had to agree. This _would_ be a good place to watch fireworks from. It was a shame that they’d been told that everyone had to be on the main campsite during the display.

Looking down at the campsite itself, half the tents had been put up by now. Thomas was pretty sure that he could identify which half-constructed tent was being put together by Newt and Minho. He laughed softly as a tent pole refused to cooperate, almost hitting Minho in the face. Newt looked like he was laughing too.

Cheyenne turned to Thomas, a grin still on her face. “Are you good to go now?”

He was probably as good as he was going to get. “Sure,” he said. “Chuck, could you-”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence before Chuck was helping him to his feet.

“Thanks.”

Chuck smiled. “No problem.”

Cheyenne pointed in the direction they were headed. “Let’s go!”

  


They finished 12th.

Considering that there were about 30 groups in total participating, Thomas was happy with that result. They were in the top half!

Cheyenne, however, was less pleased.

Thomas’ mother waved the group over to where she was sat by one of the newly-put-up tents. “How’d it go?”

Cheyenne sat on the ground in a huff. “We lost because Thomas was too slow.”

“Hey,” Chuck gently chided as he sat down next to her, “Thomas had to relearn how to walk not too long ago. He went as fast as he could. And it’s not like we came last, far from it.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” She looked over at Thomas. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Thomas, could I borrow your watch?” asked his mother.

He slipped it off his wrist and handed it to her. “Why?”

“I must’ve left my phone at home, and I don’t have any other way of telling the time.”

“Oh, okay.” He gestured towards the tent they were situated beside. “This yours for the night?” He wondered whether or not it was worth sitting down with the rest of them.

She nodded. “I’ve gotten lucky, I’ve got it to myself.” She gestured vaguely to the right. “Your friends’ tent is down there somewhere.”

Chuck opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“There you are, Tommy! Your cabin number is A-2.” Thomas turned to see Newt holding a clipboard, smirking. “Do you need me to show you where that is?”

The answer was genuinely yes. But, also, _yes._

Ignoring his mother’s knowing smile and Chuck’s laughter, Thomas followed Newt away.


	93. Chapter 93

Newt didn’t lead them towards the cabins, instead heading towards an area off to the side by the lake, where there were a small number of picnic benches. He sat on one and gestured for Thomas to sit down beside him.

At Thomas’ questioning look, he let out a small laugh. “We’ll head over in a minute. I don’t have anyone else I need to help find where they’re gonna be tonight, and I’m pretty sure you’re done for the day. There’s no rush.”

“Makes sense,” said Thomas as he relaxed. There was plenty of room on the bench, but he was sat right up against Newt. Thomas could feel every inch of their sides pressed together. “So,” he said, “how was putting up tents with Minho?”

Newt let out a whoosh of air that was somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “He’s actually useless. It’s not like he hasn’t put up a tent before, but he was this terrible back then, too.”

“I saw him getting hit in the face by a tent pole.”

“Tommy, that happened many times.”

Thomas laughed. “How did he manage that?”

“I don’t even know. He’s uniquely talented.”

In the distance, someone called for all the kids to gather at the main tent. Thomas watched Cheyenne get up, wave goodbye to Chuck and Thomas’ mother, and join the large group of children.

“What are they calling the kids in for?”

Newt hummed in thought. “They’re gonna ask the kids to get the picnic blankets out of the storeroom and lay them out, so people will have somewhere to sit for the fireworks display.”

“Making them pull their weight, huh?”

Newt shrugged. “They’re able bodied. They can manage this one thing.”

Thomas shifted slightly, before resting his head on Newt’s shoulder. He allowed himself a moment of internal celebration when he felt Newt instantly relax into the new position. He hadn’t realised he’d been worried about Newt’s reaction. He wasn’t even sure _why_ he’d been worried about it, seeing as Newt had never had a problem with people knowing about them. Newt’s hand coming up to grab Thomas’ further reinforced that fact.

Thomas swallowed. “Where’s Minho disappeared off to?”

“He wanted to call Teresa,” said Newt.

“See how she’s getting on?”

“That’s part of it, yeah.” Newt gave a small shrug, mindful of the fact that Thomas’ head was on his shoulder. “But also he just wanted to talk to her.”

Thomas smiled. “They really love each other, don’t they?”

He felt, rather than heard, Newt’s chuckle. “Yeah, Tommy, they do.” He sighed. “I’m glad they were able to find each other.”

Thomas squeezed Newt’s hand tight. “So am I. And I’m glad _we_ could find each other, too.”

Thomas felt Newt open his mouth the say something, but whatever it was got cut off by a loud chime, coming from Thomas’ pocket.

Thomas frowned, pulling away and sitting up.

“Was that your phone?” he asked.

Newt shook his head. “It’s on silent.”

“So’s mine. Which means...” he trailed off as he pulled Cheyenne’s phone out.

Sure enough, that’s what had made the noise.

It had received a new message.

 

**_From: Mary Cooper (thomas mother)_ **

 

_Meet me in cabin A-2, I want to show you something -Thomas_

 

Without saying a word, Thomas handed the phone over to Newt.

Newt’s eyes flitted back and forth, and Thomas could tell that he was reading it over multiple times.

A minute passed, and he looked up.

“You were right.”

“I told you so.”

“You did.” Newt looked back down at the phone, before setting it down on the table in disgust. “I was hoping you’d be wrong about that. It’s creepy.”

Thomas sighed. “I don’t know if it’s reassuring or not that he’s using the same tactics as last time.”

They’d thought that Janson hadn’t been killing anyone. How would he have developed that tactic if that was the case?

Newt rested his hand on Thomas’ shoulder, stopping those thoughts in their tracks. “It’s reassuring. It means you know what you’re up against.”

“But how-”

“He came up with the same technique because it’s a simple one, but with the potential to be highly effective. It doesn’t mean he’s gotten any practise with it. We’ve spent long enough analysing every incident of a kid being kidnapped or murdered nearby that we’d know if it was him. He wasn’t connected to any of them, so you don’t need to worry.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

“Because I know you.”

Newt’s response was so simple, but the truth of it struck Thomas to his core. Newt _did_ know him. Better than anyone.

But Thomas had no idea how to respond, so he latched onto the only other thing he could think of.

“Did he have to use _my_ cabin?”

Newt laughed, giving Thomas the impression that he understood the subject change for what it was. Not a rejection, just Thomas being a bit of a mess. “It looks like he’s trying to frame you, so yes. He _did_ have to use your cabin.”

Thomas sighed. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Of course not. I’d be worried if you did.” He squeezed Thomas’ shoulder and let go, getting to his feet. “I’ll head over there, make sure nobody else gets anywhere near it.”

“Will you be able to? Aren’t the other cabins nearby?”

“Nah, yours was actually pretty isolated.” Newt winked.

Thomas laughed. “And there was no behind the scenes manipulation to make that happen, I’m sure.”

Newt’s smile dropped. “Well, it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t be surprised if there _was,_ though.”

“Oh.” Thomas looked at the ground for a moment. His cabin’s positioning could’ve just been an accident. But it could also have been Janson, trying to manipulate events in his favour. Thomas shook his head slightly, banishing the thought from his mind. They’d never know, and it didn’t matter. He brought his eyes back up to catch Newt’s. “Be careful.”

Newt nodded solemnly. “I will.”

“I’m serious, Newt.”

“So am I.”

“Please don’t let him see you, because he won’t hesitate to-”

“Tommy.” Newt reached down and took Thomas’ hands in his own. “I promise to be careful and stay out of sight. I’m not going to let Janson get anywhere near me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Thomas pulled him in, meeting him with a quick kiss.

“Be safe,” Thomas whispered against Newt’s mouth.

Newt kissed him again, then let go of his hands and stepped away.

Thomas watched him go.

He probably didn’t need to worry. Newt was smart, and sensible, and careful. He’d be fine. Janson probably didn’t even care that he was around. And even if he _did_ see Newt hanging around near the cabin, there were multiple valid reasons as to why he’d be doing so, all of which had nothing to do with Janson. If Thomas could think them up, then he knew for sure that Newt would be able to. Also, Janson never killed without a concrete plan, and Newt had never been a target. Thomas had said that Janson wouldn’t hesitate, but he’d probably actually hesitate a lot.

Thomas was still worried, but thinking it through more carefully had significantly calmed him down. He himself was probably in more danger than Newt. Somewhere in the back of his mind he acknowledged that that wasn’t all that comforting a thought, but he didn’t care. He found comfort in it anyway.

As Newt disappeared past the treeline, someone dropped onto the bench next to him.

“‘Sup Thomas?”

“Hey, Minho. Didn’t see you there.”

“Too busy checking out your boyfriend?”

Thomas laughed. “I was thinking, actually.”

“You? Thinking? I don’t believe it.”

Thomas smiled. “How’s Teresa and Deedee?”

Minho’s expression softened. “They’re great. Really great.”

“Glad to hear it.”

A mischievous glint found its way into Minho’s eyes. “So, you wanna tell me why Newt’s walking in the general direction of the cabins, but you _aren’t_ following?”

Thomas sighed. He hated to ruin Minho’s good mood, but it had to be done.

He unlocked Cheyenne’s phone and handed it over.

“Shit,” said Minho once he’d read it over.

“Yeah.”

“How’d you know he’d do this?”

“Long story.” Thomas took the phone off Minho and placed it back down onto the table. “Newt’s gone to make sure people stay away.”

Minho nodded. “Good that,” he said, evidently deciding not to push Thomas on an explanation, for now at least.

Thomas was grateful for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's my birthday today, so here have another chapter to celebrate even though i put one up yesterday !!!
> 
> also, this story hit 600 kudos last night and i am blown away that so many people like this fic enough to hit that button !!!! thank you all so much <333


	94. Chapter 94

Thomas didn’t want to move. He was comfortable on the picnic bench. He could see Cheyenne talking animatedly to a group of other kids her age as they laid out the blankets, ready for the display. Good. She was making friends and enjoying herself, free from any fear. With any luck, she’d never have any idea that something was wrong.

“So,” Minho said, taking his attention away from Cheyenne, “do I wanna know what you and Newt are planning on getting up to tonight?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You say that as if you’re not actually asking about it.”

Minho laughed. “True, true, but you guys are my best friends. I’m invested.”

“Invested? Really?”

“Yes!” Minho shook his head and grinned. “You might’ve noticed that I tend to get a little excited about my friends’ relationships.”

“Just a little?”

Minho had the good grace to look embarrassed. “It’s not that I’m _trying_ to be annoying. I’m just enthusiastically supportive.”

Thomas barked out a laugh. “That’s certainly one way of putting it.”

“It’s the truth!”

“You were even _‘enthusiastically supportive’_ of your own boyfriend getting with someone else!”

Minho shrugged, smile still on his face. “I wasn’t all that into him at that point. Ben was. Seemed pretty simple to me.”

“And now there’s Teresa.”

He nodded, then froze. “We were _not_ supposed to be talking about me.”

Thomas smiled sheepishly. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t notice.”

“So,” said Minho, ignoring Thomas’ last comment. “You and Newt? What’s the plan?”

“Honestly? I’m pretty sure the plan for tonight is to sleep. He’s been running around all day, putting up tents and showing people around, and I’ve done a lot of walking too. We’re already tired. I am, at least.”

Minho sighed. “Have you two even-”

“I’m still in hospital, Minho. There’s no opportunity.”

“That’s not entirely true-”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because we’re gonna go hide in a broom cupboard or bathroom stall or something.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe not, but I bet you’d _like_ to-”

Thomas cut him off again. “Think very carefully before finish that sentence.”

Minho laughed, but stopped talking.

The sky was turning pink as the sun started to set. Thomas’s room at the hospital was facing the wrong way to see the sunset, and before his coma, through both his Revival and his life before, he’d always taken it for granted. He turned to look out over the lake.

It was beautiful.

“Yeah,” breathed Minho.

Thomas glanced over to see that he’d followed his gaze. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” He nudged him with his elbow. “You’ve been stuck inside for too long.”

“Yeah,” agreed Thomas. “I guess I have.”

“What are you two boys talking about?”

Minho grinned at the newcomer. “Hi Miss Cooper, your son needs to get out more.”

Thomas laughed. Trust Minho to say something like that. Before his mother could react, he said, “He means that literally. The sky’s pretty, is all”

She sat on the bench next to him. “It is,” she agreed.

Thomas’ phone buzzed. “Where’s Chuck?” he asked as he pulled it out.

“A few kids his age came over and asked him to join them.”

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_No kids around. No sign of Janson, either. I think he’s gone_

 

Thomas hummed in acknowledgement as he tapped out a response.

 

_okay_

_It’s getting dark, be careful xx_

 

**_From: Newt :D_ **

 

_I’m coming back now anyway xx_

 

Thomas didn’t even try to hide his smile as he put his phone away.

Minho let out an exaggerated sigh. “I can’t think _who_ could be more interesting to you than your best friend and your own mother.”

Thomas elbowed him in the ribs.

Thomas’ mother chuckled. “Where is he, anyway?”

“He was just checking something. You know, being responsible.”

She nodded. “That sounds about right.”

Thomas look back up at the sky. The pink colour had grown even deeper, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen it look like this before. Or if he had, he hadn’t appreciated it.

What had he been doing on this day, the first time around? Writing? Watching TV? Sleeping? He should’ve stuck his head out of the window instead, because this was a truly breathtaking sight. He hated that he’d missed it.

He hoped Newt would be back soon.

“Your recovery’s going really well, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hmm?”

His mother smiled. “You’re a lot stronger now. Today was tiring for you, but there’s no way you would’ve been able to do this much, even just a few months ago.”

Thomas thought about it for a second. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess you’re right.”

She wrapped an arm around him and squeezed. “I’m glad. Glad that you’re getting better, and glad that you’re not cooped up in the hospital anymore. This is doing you good.”

Thomas shrugged. “I’m gonna be going back there tomorrow.”

She nodded, but the smile hadn’t left her face. “Yesterday morning, before we left, Dr Rosier-”

“Brenda,” Thomas said.

“Brenda,” his mother agreed, “was saying that you could probably live away from the hospital soon. Immediately, even, if you wanted to. You’d probably have to go back for a couple more nights in order to get properly discharged, but then you’re free to go.”

Thomas blinked. “Free to go?”

“Well, obviously you’d have to go back a lot for checkups and whatever else needs doing, but there really isn’t any need for you to spend all your time there anymore.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what to think. He looked over at Minho for help.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” he said, putting his hands up. “It’s your choice, man.”

“Of course,” his mother added, her smile having turned more gentle and knowing, “there’s also the question of _where_ you’d be living. I’d be more than happy to have you live with me, but you might not want to.”

He knew what she was getting at. He knew _exactly_ what she was getting at.

“Can we talk about this later?” he asked in a quiet voice.

She nodded. “There’s no rush. Take all the time you need to think. All I’ll say is that I’m sure he won’t say no.”

The first hints of the night sky were starting to show through.

“We’ll all watch the fireworks together, won’t we?” said Thomas.

There was no reason why they wouldn’t, but he felt like it needed saying regardless. Watching the fireworks display with everyone, with his family _,_ sounded like a great end to the day. Granted, it hadn’t been perfect, what with Janson skulking around somewhere nearby. But only his mother had even caught a glimpse of him, and everyone was safe, and they’d managed to have fun despite his presence. The fireworks would be a lovely way to round it off. Well, that and the fact that later, when he slept, he’d be with Newt. He was definitely looking forward to that.

Thomas’ mother frowned, and his thoughts snapped back to reality. “What? Aren’t you and Cheyenne going to be watching the fireworks from somewhere else?”

Thomas’ blood ran cold. “No? Who told you that?”

“Cheyenne did. She said you left her a note in her bag, telling her to meet you somewhere. I was wondering when you were going to go.”

Thomas shot to his feet.

Minho followed quickly after. “Please tell me you did actually leave her a note, and you’d just forgotten about it ‘til now?”

Thomas shook his head.

He looked out across the campsite, trying to find her. It didn’t take him long to find the group of kids that Cheyenne had been with. They were still in one large group, some sitting, some standing, all trying to secure spots to be at when the fireworks started.

Cheyenne wasn’t with them.

Thomas couldn’t see her anywhere.

He’d taken his eye off her because he’d thought she’d be safe in a such a large group. He hadn’t even considered that this could happen.

“Mum,” he said, “did she say where she was going, or did you see what direction she went in?”

She shrugged helplessly. “Something about a bridge? I don’t really remember.”

Thomas’ heart sank. “Minho, do you know where that is?”

“Haven’t a clue.”

Fuck. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I think I do. I know where it is.” He grabbed his crutches from where they’d been leaning against the table. “Minho, I need you to tell someone in charge that Cheyenne’s wandered off, and I need you to tell Newt where I’ve gone.”

Minho nodded, and sprinted away.

“Thomas, what’s going on?”

Thomas looked down to where his mother was sitting. “I didn’t leave that note for her. Somebody else did. Somebody else who wants to trick a young girl to meet them in an isolated place after dark. I’m sorry, but I have to find her.”

Without waiting for a response, Thomas sped off as fast as he could in the direction of the rope bridge.


	95. Chapter 95

The path up to the bridge led through the woods.

It was entirely uphill, and slippery in places. Earlier, when he’d been walking it with Cheyenne and Chuck, he’d found it difficult and tiring. He’d done it regardless, because he hadn’t wanted to let his friends down.

It was dark now. Almost pitch black, under the cover of the trees. He could barely see where he was going. And he could’ve sworn that the muddy patches had grown, and the path had gotten steeper.

He needed to go faster. He needed to catch up. He’d gone fast earlier, but now it was actually important that he do so, and he was struggling.

He needed to not be struggling.

If he’d noticed she was gone earlier, he could be further ahead by now. He could’ve stopped her going off entirely. He could’ve done something,  _ anything,  _ that meant he wouldn’t be having to do this now.

The sky had looked so pretty. What he wouldn’t give now for it to reverse, for some daylight. It wouldn’t make his trek easy, but it would help.

If there was ever a time for a Revival, this was it.

Moving his legs was becoming more and more of a struggle. One foot forward. Then the other. Then the other. Use the crutches. Forwards. Forwards.  _ Forwards. _

His pre-Revival self would probably have made it up there already.

Hell, his 11-year-old self would probably have made it up there already.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Her life depended on it.

One foot forward.

Then the other.

Then

The

Other

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He saw a figure.

Two figures.

A small figure, standing next to a taller one.

A young girl’s, standing next to a grown man’s.

A burst of energy that Thomas hadn’t known he had in him spurred him forwards. He had to get to them, he couldn’t let him hurt her, he couldn’t, he had to save her, to get her away from Janson, quickly, before it was too late, he was running out of time, he had to...

It wasn’t Janson.

It was definitely Cheyenne standing there, but the man with her wasn’t Janson.

It was Vince.

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief and slowed right down. In fact, he slowed down so much and so suddenly that he only just managed to keep his legs under him. Once he’d regained his balance he walked the rest of the way up to meet them.

“You okay?” said Vince once Thomas had stopped walking entirely.

Thomas nodded, trying desperately to disguise his attempts to regain his breath. He looked down at Cheyenne. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Aren’t we supposed to-”

“No, Chey,” said Thomas, “that note you got wasn’t from me.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “But...”

“Can I see it?”

She reached into her pocket, pulled out a slip of paper, and handed it to Thomas.

 

_ Cheyenne, _

_ I’ve had a great idea! Let’s watch the fireworks together, at the viewpoint by the rope bridge. They’ll look wonderful from there! _

_ -Thomas _

 

Thomas only needed to read it over once.

“Yeah,” he said, “I definitely didn’t write this. It’s not even my handwriting.”

“Well I don’t know what your handwriting looks like, do I?”

He smiled at her. “It’s okay. Just, if someone does something like this in future, make sure to actually check with them before you do anything.” He handed the note to Vince. “Thank you,” he said.

“It’s not a problem.”

“Is he onto us?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Okay, good. How did you know that-”

“Newt called me.” Vince gave Thomas a piercing look. “He said something about a reckless idiot that had gone running off on his own, but had no chance of succeeding, and was just going to end up getting himself hurt.”

Thomas let out an embarrassed laugh. “He’s gonna yell at me, isn’t he?”

“You betcha.”

Thomas nodded. “Fair enough. Especially considering what I’m about to do”

“Why would he yell at you?” asked Cheyenne. “What’s going on?”

Instead of answering, Thomas said, “Vince, could you take Cheyenne back to camp? And then could you call the police? I think it’s time we ended this.”

Vince nodded. “With pleasure.” He placed a hand on Cheyenne’s shoulder, gently steering her around Thomas and down the slope. “Good luck,” he called back.

Thomas watched them go.

He allowed himself to rest for a couple of minutes. To get his breath back, and to psych himself up.

Cheyenne was safe for now, but enough was enough. He was done. He wasn’t going to let Janson hurt anybody else. Not now, and not ever again.

Janson had probably been gearing up for a confrontation. So that’s what Thomas would give him.

He turned to face in the direction facing towards the bridge.

Then, gritting his teeth in determination, he resumed walking.


	96. Chapter 96

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy bonfire/fireworks night !!

Thomas reached the rope bridge, and all was still.

The sky was completely dark. Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas could see dots of light shining up from the campsite. People holding torches, using their phones, or heating up food. People with no idea of what was happening so close by. With no idea of what had almost happened.

A little girl had come so close to being murdered, and barely anybody had any idea.

Thomas refocused on the bridge ahead of him. The viewpoint was on the other side. So Janson would be on the other side, waiting for Cheyenne to appear.

Thomas wondered how he’d react when he saw that his plan had been ruined.

Oh well, he was about to find out.

He reached into his pocket and brought out his phone. Making sure the volume was down as low as it could possibly be, he pressed on the most recent number that showed up.

The answer came immediately.

“Tommy! Where are you? Vince said-”

“Shh,” Thomas whispered into the phone. “Can you record this call?”

“Yes, but-”

“Do that then.”

“Thomas-”

Without letting him finish, Thomas muted Newt’s voice and set his phone to speakerphone. Everything that was said in his general vicinity would be picked up by the phone, and hopefully would be recorded. Janson wouldn’t know that it was happening.

Newt would forgive him later.

Thomas slid his phone back into his pocket and moved onto the bridge.

He saw movement from the other side. He didn’t let this distract him as he walked forwards.

The moving figured stepped onto the bridge at its other end. It didn’t appear to be looking at where it was going, instead focused on what it was holding.

Thomas was a quarter of the way across the bridge.

He stopped.

The figure would have to notice him sooner or later.

It would have to look up.

_ Janson  _ would have to look up.

And look up he did.

Janson glanced upwards once he was halfway across, and froze.

“Thomas,” he said.

Thomas didn’t reply.

Janson carefully put the box he was holding down in front of him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Unimpressed, Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Janson laughed coldly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here so  _ soon, _ ” he amended. “I was expecting that cancer patient to get here first.”

Thomas looked around himself, as if searching for her.

“But she didn’t,” sighed Janson. He paused. “It’s a lovely view, isn’t it?”

It was. It really, truly was. But this was not an experience that Thomas was willing to share with Janson.

When it became clear that Thomas wasn’t going to indulge him, Janson smirked. “Fine,” he said, “Have it your way. I  _ was _ going to kill her. I had complete faith that you’d come up here and find some way to stop me, like you always do, but my attempts to kill her were earnest.”

Jackpot. No matter what he said now, that confession was recorded, or had at least been overheard. Now Thomas just needed to keep him occupied until the police could get there.

It didn’t look like he’d need to try very hard, because Janson kept talking on his own.

“It’s interesting. When you were a child, you anticipated my every move and stopped me before I could get anywhere close to achieving my aims. You did it again today, which didn’t surprise me all that much.” He laughed. “That’s why I’d prepared an analogue alternative, in case you were able to predict that I’d use the phone.” The smile slipped from his face. “What I don’t understand, is how? How were you able to stop me back then? And _how_ did you know about that trick with the phone? That’s not a technique that I was able to use back then. How could you possibly have known about it?”

Thomas shrugged.

“Come now, Thomas. Why don’t you just be honest with me?”

Thomas said nothing.

Janson stared him down, but was the first to break eye contact. He looked away, down towards the camp.

“I don’t need you to tell me how you managed to stop that girl from getting here before you. You have friends here with you, and they can move a lot faster.” He turned back to Thomas and curled his lip into a horrible smile. “Well, not all of them. It’s a pity about Newton. He used to be such a fast runner. What a shame he had to throw all that away.”

Thomas clenched his fists, but otherwise remained still. The only thing he’d gain by punching Janson so hard he fell off the bridge would be personal satisfaction. It wasn’t worth the risk that he might get away.

“Still nothing to say? Thomas, this isn’t like you.”

Thomas stayed silent.

Janson sighed. He grabbed the rope next to him and tapped his finger on it, looking back down at the camp. “I perfectly understand that you hate me. I wanted to kill your friends, and I tried to kill you. But, I ask you, can any of my actions really be considered evil? Is there any real evil in the world? Doesn’t it make a lot more sense to say that there’s just different actions that a person can take, and none of them are inherently good or bad?”

Thomas heard the words without consciously letting them out of his mouth. “That’s bullshit.”

Janson looked almost delighted. “So you  _ can  _ talk.”

Oh well, he’d started now. Might as well give him a piece of his mind. “Yes, your actions  _ can  _ be considered to be evil. And they should. Just today you set up at least two different ways to lure a vulnerable young girl to an isolated location, with the intention to murder her, and who the fuck knows what else. When I was 11 you planned to kill other vulnerable kids, and you as good as told me that they wouldn’t have been the first people you’d killed. And in every single plan you’d prepared a scapegoat, an innocent person who was gonna take the fall for what you’d done, for what you  _ have  _ done. So yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the fucking  _ definition  _ of evil right there.”

A high pitched whistling sound filled the air, followed by a large bang.

Both Thomas and Janson turned their heads to see the beginnings of the fireworks display.

They were beautiful.

Cheyenne had been right, this  _ was _ a great place to watch the display from. But Thomas couldn’t enjoy it. He’d wanted to watch it with his friends, with his mother, with Newt. But that opportunity had been taken from him. It was yet another thing that had been taken from him by the man in front of him.

In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. Nobody was going to die because he didn’t get to watch the fireworks from where he’d wanted to. But he was allowed to be upset about it.

He turned back to face Janson, determinedly not watching the fireworks anymore.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” said Janson.

“You’re going to have to repeat it,” said Thomas.

“How did you know what I was planning to do? Every time, how did you know?”

Thomas sighed and leant more heavily on his crutches. “I’m a time traveller,” he deadpanned.

“Is that so?”

Thomas nodded. “I lived through the time surrounding my 11th birthday three times, and this is my second time living through today. I know what you’re planning to do because you’ve already done it.”

Janson sighed. “I’m only asking this one thing of you, and you can’t even be bothered to come up with a believable lie.”

Thomas let the corners of his mouth quirk upwards. “Why would I bother telling you a believable lie, when I can tell you this instead?”

“Thomas, I don’t think I’m ever going to understand what goes through that head of yours. In fact,” he paused for a moment, before continuing, “I  _ know  _ I won’t.”

A few seconds of silence passed before Thomas realised that he was waiting for a response. He sighed, hating that he was playing along. He just hoped that this wouldn’t have to continue for much longer. A particularly large firework lit up Janson’s face as Thomas said, “And why’s that?”

Janson smiled. The smile appeared to be genuine, which made it all the more unsettling. “Because it doesn’t really matter that you refuse to satisfy my curiosity. There’s something else that’s much more important to me.” Janson slipped one of his hands into his pocket. Thomas stood up a little straighter, bracing himself for whatever that could mean. “Ever since I failed at killing you, I haven’t killed anyone else. It’s not that I didn’t want to. Lord knows I did. But it just wasn’t  _ fun  _ anymore. You’d ruined the experience for me. Now, there’s a chance that killing you properly would fix it for me, but I don’t think that’s possible. Not anymore. It’s been 16 years. That’s far too long.” He sighed. “No, you have most definitely broken me, Thomas. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very,” Thomas hissed out through gritted teeth. What was his point?

“You see, I refuse to remain in a world where the one thing that brought me joy has been taken from me, never to return. And I thought it would be fitting if we went together.”

He pulled his hand out from his pocket.

It was too dark, Thomas couldn’t see what he was holding.

But then he could.

Janson clicked the item in his hand - a lighter! - and a small flame appeared.

He smirked at Thomas, no doubt revelling in the horrified expression that Thomas was sure was plastered on his face.

“It’s certainly been interesting.”

And with that, he dropped the lighter onto the box in front of him.

Thomas couldn’t tell for sure what the box was made of, or if it had been coated in something, or what was inside it.

But whatever it was, it went up in flames.


	97. Chapter 97

The fire spread quickly. The box was soon completely consumed by it, and it started to spread to the bridge itself.

The bridge was on fire.

The bridge that they were _standing on_ was on fire.

Janson had no intention for either of them to get out alive.

Janson was closer to the fire than Thomas was. Thomas could probably turn and run back to safety. He just had to get there before the bridge broke. He could make it.

But, for all Janson had done, Thomas didn’t want him dead.

A million thoughts ran through his head as he decided what to do.

If Janson was dead, he could never be brought to justice. He’d get away with everything he’d done, without ever having to face any consequences. After everything that everyone had been through, that Thomas himself had been though, as a result of this man’s actions, Thomas was in no way willing to stand by and let that happen.

He was also, if he was being completely honest, sick of death.

His mother, Teresa, Minho, Brenda, Newt, and countless more besides. He was sick of seeing it, of hearing about it, of everything to do with it. Even if they weren’t dead _now,_ it had still happened. For him, anyway.

It had all happened for him.

He didn’t want anybody else to end up dead.

Unfortunately, that also included Janson.

Cursing himself, Thomas let go of his crutches, letting them fall to the side. They would only slow him down.

Not stopping to think about how utterly idiotic what he was doing was, he started to walk forwards.

The heat of the flames pressed in around him as he got closer to their source. Janson, for his part, was standing still, eyes closed, waiting for them to engulf him.

Thomas didn’t give it a chance to happen.

He stopped just before the point that the flames had gotten to and reached out over them, grabbing the front of Janson’s shirt. Janson’s eyes flung open in shock, but Thomas didn’t give him any more time than that to react before he was flinging him off the bridge.

He flung himself off quickly afterwards.

It was that or burn.

He hit the water hard, and pain encompassed him.

The water poured in.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t breath.

He was trapped.

It was so cold.

It was-

It wasn’t actually all that cold.

He _could_ move.

He shook his head to clear his mind, and punched his way upwards.

He wasn’t trapped in the car. He wasn’t going to drown. He wasn’t going to die. He didn’t even hurt that much anymore from where he’d hit the water. He wasn’t in any hurry to do anything like that again, but he was okay.

He was alive.

He broke the surface and gasped a deep breath of air.

A few feet away he saw Janson doing the same.

He turned onto his back, and looked up at the bridge.

In the time he’d been falling and underwater, the fire had spread so much that most of it was now just an orangey glow. It wouldn’t be long before it started to fall apart.

Suddenly, bright white lights sprung up from all directions.

Thomas looked around to see that they were coming from the bank of the lake. The entire thing was surrounded.

Somebody, Thomas couldn’t see who, started to talk through a loudspeaker.

“Remain where you are.”

The police. They were here.

Everything was going to be okay.

“Tommy!”

Thomas turned towards the new, quieter voice.

Newt and Vince were on a small row boat, heading towards him. They reached him fairly quickly, and worked together to drag Thomas on-board as efficiently as possible.

“You okay there, Thomas?” asked Vince.

Thomas nodded.

“Good,” he said, and started to turn the boat back around.

Newt’s crouched down next to where Thomas was sprawled and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“How mad at me are you?”

“Let’s get onto dry land first,” replied Newt, face still buried in Thomas’ neck.

Newt didn’t let go until they reached the bank, and nobody spoke for the entire journey. Seeing as Newt wanted to wait until they were off the lake to yell at him, there wasn’t much else to say.

One of the police officers on the bank was holding a large blanket, which Thomas gratefully accepted. He couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be for the water, cold, shock, or some combination of the three, but either way he was immensely grateful. Newt stayed practically glued to his side, his arm not moving from its hold around Thomas’ waist.

It looked like the police were going to focus getting Janson in handcuffs before they worried about asking Thomas any questions. This meant that, for a few minutes, their attention wasn’t on him. Newt and Thomas used this opportunity to get a few meters away from the crowd.

And immediately ended up in front of Thomas’ mother.

They froze upon seeing her.

If Newt was angry at him for being reckless, and he definitely was, then his mother would be even more so. Thomas had no idea what she was about to say or do.

She took a step towards them, raised her hands.

And pulled them both into a hug.

“You stupid boys.”

The bubble of laughter that came from Newt sounded slightly hysterical.

“Sorry mum,” said Thomas.

She squeezed them tight, and let them go. “God forbid something like this should happen again, but for fuck’s sake, never feel like you have to deal with these sorts of situations on your own.”

“We weren’t on our own, Mary. We had-”

“Newt, rest assured I will be having _words_ with Vince later on. I understand that you were all just trying to protect someone you’re close to, but at the very least I should’ve been brought up to speed.”

“We didn’t-”

“Thomas, I really don’t think you’re in any place to be arguing with anyone right now. That’s all I wanted to say. I’ll leave the rest of it to Newt. I’m sure there are a number of things he’s dying to say.” She winked, turned, and went to talk to one of the police officers.

“Are you okay?” said Newt.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” said Thomas. “I mean, I’m drenched, and there’s no way my phone survived that, but physically I’m okay.”

“Okay,” said Newt. He detached himself from Thomas’ side and rounded on him. “Then what the bloody hell was all that?”

“Uh-”

“No, shut up. We said that we’d be careful. There was a _plan._ Confronting Janson alone was explicitly _not the plan!_ We discussed this exact thing! We _agreed,_ all of us, that it was far too buggin’ dangerous. And what do you do? You go off and confront him alone, like a bloody fucking moron. Going after Chey, I get. But then Vince came back with her, and _without_ you, and then you _fucking call_ but not to reassure anyone that you’re okay, no, you want us to _record_ you being a reckless idiot!”

“Did you rec-”

“ _Yes I bloody well recorded it,_ that’s not the _fucking_ point! Do you have any idea how terrifying it was? You were _alone_ with the bloody serial killer, and we could hear what he was saying, and there was _nothing I could do about it!_ And he _did_ try to kill you. Jesus Christ.” Newt sank to the ground and put his head in his hands.

Thomas sat in front of him, smiling a little sheepishly. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting the fire. Which was an oversight, seeing as he used it before.”

“You threw yourself off a bridge.”

Oh.

That.

“Hey,” said Thomas, reaching out and placing a hand on Newt’s shoulder. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

“But you so _easily_ could’ve not been.”

“But I _am._ That’s what’s important. Hey, Newt, look at me.”

Newt lifted his head up. He looked like he was a hair’s breadth away from bursting into tears.

“I’m completely fine. It doesn’t even hurt.”

Newt choked out a sound that was half laughter, half sob. “Piss off, that’s not fair.”

Thomas grinned. “I guess I really _am_ a superhero after all.”

Laughter won out. Newt pulled Thomas towards him and buried his face in Thomas’ neck, trying in vain to stifle his giggles. Thomas just laughed along with him.

There was no doubt in his mind that everything that had just happened would haunt them both.

But, in that moment, with Newt in his arms, and everyone else alive and safe, and Janson being led away by police?

Thomas didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi !! sorry i missed a week, last weekend was super busy and then i had to focus on uni stuff during the week. thank you for your patience !!!
> 
> i'm in the process of writing a oneshot for this series, and it's gonna be a long one. but idk when it'll be ready to post. it definitely won't be until after this has wrapped up, and likely not until the new year. i need to spend the next few weeks focusing on essays for uni and the tmrss, as those have hard deadlines and are important. so if you wanna make sure that you don't miss that oneshot when it's done, make sure you're subscribed to this series !! and, if you're interested, keep an eye on my account, bc i'm working on another fic that i'll start to post some point after this is done : D


	98. Chapter 98

The rest of the camp was cancelled.

A small handful of people wanted it to continue as planned. A _very_ small handful. For nearly everyone there, the fact that somebody had tried to kill people, and himself, and been arrested for it, all right next to where they were supposed to be sleeping, made them not want to hang around any longer.

Most of the patients went back to the hospital in the bus, as did all of the young volunteers. That included Chuck.

It did not include Cheyenne and Thomas.

The police wanted to talk to Cheyenne.

Thomas had hoped to avoid this. He’d wanted Cheyenne to never know how much danger she’d been in. He’d wanted her to have a fun outing, and make friends, and enjoy life. But Janson had gotten close enough to getting to her that she was one of the people cited under his conspiracy-to-commit-murder charge, so she had to be questioned.

Hopefully, it would become an entertaining story for her to be able to tell.

There weren’t many people who could talk about the time that somebody planned to kill them, after all. She’d always have the most interesting anecdote.

At least, that was the optimistic way of looking at the situation.

Thomas didn’t go back to the hospital on the bus, because he went in an ambulance instead.

Despite not being in any pain, he’d fallen from a great height. It was entirely possible that his lack of pain was because of adrenaline, not because he wasn’t actually hurt. He’d also gotten really close to the flames, and although he didn’t _think_ he’d touched them, he couldn’t be sure. There was also the possibility that he’d swallowed some of the water, and even if his airway was fine, that water wasn’t exactly the cleanest.

So. Ambulance.

The death glare that Newt sent towards the paramedics when they tried to get him to leave was wildly entertaining. Thomas was able to contain himself until they were out of earshot, but then he fall about laughing. Newt joined in after only a couple of seconds of sighing at Thomas’ immaturity.

Newt stayed with him through the journey back to the hospital, and during the wait in the emergency room. He went with him when he was taken back up to his _actual_ room, and when a doctor came in to check his body over for any breaks.

There weren’t any.

They were told that they’d want to run some other tests, and the the police wanted to talk to them, but that both of these things could wait until morning.

Finally, for the first time in a long time, they were left alone.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” said Thomas.

“I know.”

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home?”

The main lights in the room were off, but hospital rooms never get completely dark. There was enough light that Thomas could see Newt shrug from the seat he was sitting in, next to the bed.

“Tommy,” Newt sighed, “Nothing you say is gonna convince me to leave. I’m staying right here with you.”

Thomas thought for a second, then shuffled to the edge of the bed. “Okay then.”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Making room.”

“I’d love to, but we’re not allowed to do that.”

“C’mon, do you really think they’re gonna tell us off? They wouldn’t, not after everything that’s happened.”

“You have a lot of faith that they’ll be nice to us.”

“And you don’t have enough.” He patted the space next to him. “Look, chances are they won’t actually give a shit, and that’s if they look in on us at all. We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to get kicked out.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Say I wouldn’t stop complaining until you agreed to it. You wouldn’t even have to lie.”

Newt huffed out a laugh and lay down next to him. They wrapped their arms around each other and pulled each other close.

“Hi,” said Thomas.

He could hear the grin in Newt’s voice. “Hello.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Unfortunately.”

Thomas laughed. “How often?”

“I’m here every buggin’ day.”

Thomas pressed a kiss to Newt’s shoulder. “I’m incredibly grateful for that.”

He felt Newt’s grip around him tighten. “Don’t be.”

He didn’t know what compelled him to bring it up, but in that moment he felt like he had to. “We might both be getting away from here soon, though.”

Newt nodded. “Brenda was saying something about that earlier. It’s your call, though.”

“Newt, I honestly think I’ve seen enough of this hospital, and _especially_ this room, to last me a lifetime. The sooner I can get out, the better.”

Newt hummed into the crook of Thomas’ neck. “You’ll probably be stuck here a bit longer than originally planned, seeing as you decided to take a swan dive off a bridge.”

“I didn’t want anyone to die.”

Newt sighed. “I know, Tommy. I get it. I just wish you’d been more careful.”

“Well, I can promise not to do _that_ again, at least.”

Newt pulled away slightly so he could look Thomas in the eyes. “Can you though? I don’t mean to say that you’d _intentionally_ break that promise, I know you wouldn’t, but you said yourself that you can’t control the Revivals. You could have to do today all over again, or at some point in the future you could get hurt trying to save somebody else, or-”

“Hey,” said Thomas, interrupting Newt’s rambling. “There’s no point worrying. That’s how I’ve come to view it, anyway. I can’t control the Revivals, so I can’t control them. I might as well live my life as if everything’s going to stick, because most of it will anyway, and what doesn’t, doesn’t.” He shrugged. “And that means not making jumping off of bridges a habit.”

Newt still didn’t look fully reassured.

“What’s wrong?”

Newt swallowed a few times. Thomas got the impression that he was psyching himself up to say something, and didn’t interrupt, letting him get there in his own time.

Eventually, Newt spoke.

“I don’t want this to be erased.”

The cracks in Newt’s voice, like he was desperately trying to hold back tears, nearly broke Thomas’ heart.

“It won’t be. Hey Newt, look at me. It _won’t_ be, you hear? You wanna know how I know that?” He waited for Newt’s nod. “Revivals have never taken something good away from me that I wasn’t given the opportunity to get back. If you don’t count Chuck, that last part probably doesn’t even apply. And, even ignoring that, this is actually the longest I’ve ever gone since they started without having one.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Does that mean-?”

“I don’t know what it means. But also, seeing as it took me being framed for my mother’s murder for me to get sent back further than five minutes, even if they _do_ start up again, I’m convinced that we aren’t in any danger of losing this.”

Newt was looking a little better now, but not completely. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I promise.” Thomas smiled. “I said I wouldn’t lie to you, didn’t I?”

Newt cracked a small smile at that. “Did you really though?”

“I did. And I’m sticking to that now.”

Newt nodded and leaned in.

Thomas was expecting Newt to kiss him, and that’s almost what happened. To be fair, Newt _did_ kiss him, but it wasn’t on the mouth. Instead, Newt gave him a quick peck on the tip of his nose.

After which he immediately drew away, eyes wide.

Thomas smiled. “Was that intentional, or did you just miss?”

Newt stuttered for a few seconds, before finally managing to say “I don’t know why but I really wanted to do that and I’m sorry?”

Thomas laughed. “Don’t apologise. It’s completely fine.”

“It was okay?”

“It was more than okay, you goof.”

“Okay.” Newt nodded to himself. ”Okay, good.”

Thomas laughed again, and leaned in, this time for a proper kiss.

Newt relaxed into it instantly.

Thomas couldn’t tell how long they spent there, holding each other, languidly kissing. Nobody was going to interrupt them, and there was no rush.

Eventually, Newt pulled away just enough that the kiss was broken. His lips brushed against Thomas’ as he spoke. “Sorry, you were trying to say something before I brought up the bridge?”

Thomas huffed a laugh. “Was I? I can’t remember. Was it important?”

Newt tutted.

Thomas rolled his eyes and kissed him once more. “No, wait,” he pulled away to say, “I remember what it was.”

“Care to share?”

“Mum was asking me where I’d want to go, after I get out of hospital.”

“What, where you’d live, you mean?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Newt hummed in thought. “Why was she asking you? I’d assumed that you’d live with her.”

“That’s an option, yes. But how many 27 year olds do you know who voluntarily live with their parents?”

“Miyoko.”

Thomas chuckled. “Okay, I didn’t know that, but you know what I mean.”

“Tommy, what are you trying to say?”

Suddenly, Thomas didn’t know which words to use. He didn’t know how to actually ask him. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, hoping that Newt would take pity on him and help.

No such luck. Newt pulled away far enough that Thomas would be able to see his raised eyebrow. “I’m not a mind reader, love. Whatever it is, you’re gonna have to say it.”

“You might not be a mind reader but you’re also not a moron. You know full well what I’m trying to say.”

Newt gave a small shrug, but said nothing.

Thomas let out an exaggerated sigh. “I was wondering, and absolutely no pressure at all, if you don’t want to you then can just say so, I won’t be upset or anything, but I was wondering if _maybe_ I could live with you?”

Newt beamed.

“Tommy,” he said, “I would _love_ for you to live with me.”

Thomas let out a relieved giggle and tugged Newt in close again. “You’re really mean, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“That I do, Newt. That I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to make it super super clear that there's obviously nothing wrong with living with family in your late 20s, especially in this economy lmao
> 
> thank you all so much for sticking with me through this !! there's only a couple more chapters to go now <33


	99. Chapter 99

Thomas was officially discharged from hospital three and a half weeks later.

He was given a new set of crutches, his old pair having been destroyed in the fire, and was given strict limitations on what physical activities he was allowed to do without the supervision of a trained physical therapist. He was only mildly annoyed about it.

Newt’s apartment building was relatively close to the hospital, so it didn’t take long to get there. The drive only lasted a few minutes.

“I usually walk, but I figured that your doctors might not appreciate that right now.”

Thomas would probably have been okay with walking, but he didn’t mind being driven. Especially as it meant that he could watch Newt as much as he liked, and not get caught staring.

Although if his smile was anything to go by, then Newt definitely knew that he was staring.

The apartment itself was on the ground floor. This didn’t surprise Thomas in the least, and he was immensely grateful for it. He may have gotten a lot better at walking up and down stairs than he had been when he’d first woken up, but not being faced with having to deal with them on a daily basis filled him with a sense of relief.

Newt unlocked the door and pushed it open.

“WELCOME HOME THOMAS!”

Crammed inside the front room of Newt’s apartment were all of Thomas’ childhood friends, and then some.

Minho, Teresa, Alby, Frypan, Brenda, Gally, Ben, Sonya, Harriet, Miyoko, Beth, and a couple of others that Thomas vaguely recognised, but couldn’t quite place.

There was a banner hanging up, saying the same phrase that they’d all just yelled, and Thomas was pretty sure there was a cake on the counter, too.

“Uh...”

Minho walked up to them and clapped his hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “How does it feel to finally be out of the hospital?”

Thomas blinked. “Yes. I mean, it’s good. I’m glad. I, uh...”

Teresa laughed, and took pity on him. “It occurred to us that we haven’t all been able to meet up together, pretty much ever. So we wanted to change that as soon as possible. And we wanted to properly celebrate you finally being back with us.”

As Minho stepped away, Thomas looked around the room at everyone. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, but we wanted to,” said Frypan. “You’re our friend. Of course we’d want to celebrate. And besides,” he pointed at Thomas as he said, “you’ve missed a  _ lot.  _ I know you’ve been told some things, but tonight is for reminiscing and catching up. Good that?”

Thomas couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. He nodded. “So, who’s got something to share?”

Alby immediately launched into a story about a school trip that went horrendously wrong, and Thomas was laughing along with everyone else like he’d been there all along.

  
  


“Did you guys ever actually rent out the museum?”

Teresa nodded. “We didn’t do it for a birthday like we’d said we would. It ended up being left until the summer after the end of school, when we were 18.”

“Did you guys have fun?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Gally said. “Especially since I had the presence of mind to bring some alcohol along.”

Newt sighed. “Even though we were specifically told not to do that.”

Gally’s eyebrows shot up so far Thomas was half convinced that it was about to attempt reaching orbit. “It’s not like that stopped  _ you  _ from having any.”

Newt laughed nervously. “I don’t think we need to hear about that.”

“No,” said Thomas, “I think we do.”

Newt shook his head firmly.

Teresa caught Thomas’ eye.  _ “Remind me later,”  _ she mouthed.

Thomas shot her a thumbs up.

  
  


Sonya pulled Thomas aside.

“I know that tonight’s supposed to be fun, and this is probably the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but-”

“Janson?”

She gave a tired smile. “Yes. That. I got assigned to the case.”

Thomas grinned. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. He’s going to be tried for murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, arson, vandalism, and probably even more besides. But,” she lowered her voice, “don’t tell anyone else about this, but when I was interviewing him yesterday, he confessed to it all. Everything. Even more than we’d ever been able to pin on him. He’s probably going to plead guilty, too. He’d  _ have  _ to after that.”

“So it’s done?”

“Not officially, but pretty much. If that man ever sees the light of day again, I’ll eat Harriet’s jacket. And she loves that jacket.”

“Well, hopefully that won’t be an issue.”

“You saved lives, you know. When we were kids. He was planning to kill some of our friends, but you stopped him.”

“Yeah,” said Thomas. “He told me all about that when he was trying to kill me.”

“How were you able to do it? To be in the right place at the right time to make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone?” she asked.

Thomas shrugged. “Just got lucky, I suppose.”

  
  


“Hello.”

Thomas didn’t know the girl’s name. He knew he hadn’t known her when they were all kids, but he definitely recognised her from somewhere. He just couldn’t figure out where.

“Hi,” he said. “Sorry, but-”

She smiled and shook her head. “You wouldn’t know me, don’t worry. I’m Rachel, and that guy over there’s Aris.” She pointed across the room to the other person Thomas hadn’t thought he’d known. Their names sounded familiar. “We didn’t really become friends with most of these guys until year nine.”

That would explain why he felt like he knew them from somewhere. They’d gone to the same secondary school, in the original timeline. Trying not to let anything of this realisation show, he shook her offered hand. “It’s good to meet you. I’m Thomas.”

She grinned, and sat down next to him. “Well duh, I know  _ that.  _ This whole party’s for you, doofus.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Well, what else am I supposed to say?”

She shrugged. “Not gonna lie, I have no idea.”

They both laughed. There wasn’t exactly a guide on how to navigate these sorts of situations.

“I guess I wanted to say thanks.”

“What for?”

She sighed. “For waking up?” She shook her head. “It’s not that they weren’t getting on with their lives, because they  _ were,  _ but you being in a coma was killing them. Whenever we all met up it felt like there was someone missing. We’d be laughing and joking, and everything would be fine, but then someone would suddenly look really sad, and kinda guilty, like they thought they weren’t supposed to be happy. Aris and I didn’t know you, so we couldn’t relate, but you were always on everyone else’s minds.”

Thomas winced. “Sorry, that must’ve been difficult.”

She rolled her eyes. “It was, but it’s also not your fault. You’re here now, anyway, so thank you. And honestly? If you’d died after leaving them all in the lurch for so long, I’d have found a way to bring you back to life, solely for the purpose of killing you myself.”

Thomas had a feeling that he and Rachel were going to get along.

  
  


“Are you okay with all this?”

“Hmm?”

Teresa gestured around the room. “This celebration thing. We sorta forgot to ask.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”

“Because pretty much all we’ve done is talk about the last decade and a half, and it literally only just occurred to me that you might not be happy about that.”

“Teresa,” he said, “of course I’m happy about it. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You weren’t here for any of it. Everything we’ve been talking about, you missed because of your coma.” She shrugged. “We didn’t mean to be insensitive or anything.”

He shook his head. “You’re not, don’t worry. I actually love hearing about the things you guys have gotten up to over the years.”

“You do?”

“Yes! In a way, it kinda makes me feel like it was worth it.”

“Tom, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I mean...” he trailed off. It occurred to him that he had no idea as to how much Teresa knew about the situation. “Are you...? Do you know-”

“I’m aware that Janson wanted to kill me, if that’s what you’re failing at trying to ask.” She rolled her eyes. “Minho told me about it.”

Thomas laughed. “Yeah, well, if missing out on growing up with you guys meant that the rest of you got to actually live? It’s worth it. And I wanna hear all about it.”

She smiled. “Good that.”

  
  


Eventually it got late, and people began to head home. Once the first people - Ben and Gally - left it was like the floodgates had opened, and before long everyone else had gone, leaving just Thomas and Newt alone in Newt’s apartment.

Well. Newt would probably insist on calling it  _ their  _ apartment.

“I’ve gotta say,” said Newt, and Thomas could hear the smile in his voice, “everyone’s gotten a  _ lot  _ more considerate since school.”

Thomas was curled up next to Newt on the sofa, so had to pull away to be able to clearly respond. “How so?”

“Look around, Tommy.”

He did.

“Now think back to that party that Sonya threw. Notice a difference?”

“I spent that party hiding in the bathroom and then your room.”

Newt laughed. “Yes, but unless you literally climbed out of the window, you would’ve seen the state that the house was left in afterwards. Cups and rubbish everywhere, someone passed out drunk, and at  _ least  _ one puddle of sick. I know it was there because I ended up cleaning that bit. But look.” Newt pointed to the coffee table. “One cup left out, and it might’ve been mine anyway. The rest are in the kitchen by the sink, where they’re supposed to be. Everyone actually managed to clean up after themselves. I’m so proud.”

Thomas hummed in agreement. He lay his head onto Newt’s shoulder and they sat in silence for a few minutes, their hands easily finding each other’s.

“Hey, Newt?”

“‘Sup?”

“Sonya was talking to me earlier.”

Newt tutted. “If it was about the case, she would’ve told you not to tell anyone else about it.”

“Yeah, well, she should’ve known there was no way I’d be keeping it from you.”

“She’s  _ also  _ my twin sister.” Thomas glanced up to see Newt grinning. “She told you that he’d confessed to it all, didn’t she?”

He should’ve known “Of course you already knew about it.”

“Tommy, she told me  _ first.  _ And now she owes me a tenner.”

“Why?”

“Because, for reasons that completely escape me, she thought that you wouldn’t ignore her telling you not to tell people about it. If you hadn’t told me by the end of the week, she’d have won.”

“She was never gonna win that one.”

“I tried to tell her that, but she wouldn’t listen.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Thomas’ head. “Though, to be fair to her, I thought you’d last longer than half an hour after everyone else had gone.”

“I don’t ever wanna keep anything from you.”

Newt froze beneath him. Thomas sat up and looked at him properly. Newt’s eyes were wide, and his mouth had dropped slightly open. Thomas struggled not to lose himself staring at either.

“You okay?” he forced out instead.

Newt blinked, and his mouth curved into a smile. “Very.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You’re very okay?”

Newt huffed a laugh, and nodded. “I most definitely am.”

Thomas squeezed his hand and smiled. “Good,” he said, and leaned in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more to go after this !!! it's more of an epilogue-y chapter, and as you can see the cliffhangers have come to an end
> 
> just warning you now, there might be a long emotional essay in the end notes of the last chapter which nobody will be under any obligaiton to read, but you know, just a heads up <33


	100. Chapter 100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the week that i’m posting this, i have end of semester tests and deadlines. i opened this fic talking about exams, and i’m closing it that way too, although i’m not talking about the same exams. ah, the life of a student

Time moved forwards.

It didn’t take Thomas very long to realise that the Revivals had stopped entirely. Of course, he hadn’t experienced any normal ones since he’d been sent back to when he was 11, but he’d figured that that was because he was focused on one problem. Even if a Revival could’ve kicked in again while he was trying to do that, the other things going wrong around him weren’t things that he'd had any power to fix. He’d been in the body of a child, after all, and  _ then  _ he'd been stuck in a hospital, barely able to walk.

But once he was out of there, and existing in the world again, he couldn’t think of a reason why they wouldn’t start up again.

They didn’t.

Newt had a number of theories as to why this could be the case. These included, but were not limited to; Thomas actually being subconsciously in control of them after all and that he felt like he’d done enough time travelling for one lifetime, whatever higher power that may or may not have been in control of it deciding to finally let him rest, and that it was because they hadn’t yet caught up to the point that he was sent back from and so they were technically still inside the loop.

Thomas wasn’t sure whether or not he cared why they’d stopped. He wasn’t even sure whether it was a good thing or a bad one.

He tried to seek out the times and places that he remembered a Revival taking place. It was partially to see if it would trigger for something that it had triggered for before, and partially it was to make  _ sure  _ that the changes he’d made stayed that way.

But the bad things never came to pass.

The shop display held in place without help. The child who’d been hit by a train managed to wait for it to pass by without needing to be held back. Even the lost tourist was able to find their way without Thomas needing to interfere.

Newt called it the butterfly effect. Thomas didn’t give a shit what it was called. He was too busy being relieved that all the people he’d helped were still okay.

  
  


The strangest day was the day that, in the first timeline, Thomas’ mother had been murdered.

Thomas went to visit Chuck at work. Like last time, Chuck had gotten a part time job at the pizza place. His entire demeanor visibly brightened when Thomas walked in.

“Hey, Thomas! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been great. You?”

Chuck held both his thumbs up. “Awesome.” He slipped into an overly fake customer service voice. “What can I get for you today, sir?”

Thomas laughed and gave him his order.

As he made his way back to his and Newt’s shared apartment, he took a detour and stopped next to his old apartment building. From where he stood, he could just about see that the lights were on inside his old apartment. He didn’t know who lived there, and he didn’t particularly want to know, either. Whoever they were, he hoped they were happy.

He got back home, and picked out a movie while Newt finished up his phone call with a client. Then they collapsed onto the sofa next to each other, ate pizza, and settled in for the night.

Thomas couldn’t help but be distracted, though. His mother’s murder both had happened, and hadn’t. It had been 20 years ago, and three years ago, and today all at once.

Halfway through the movie, Newt asked him what was wrong. Thomas was fairly sure that Newt had known the whole time that something was bothering him, but hadn’t been known whether or not to say anything. Thomas was grateful that he’d put so much thought into it.

“Sorry, it’s just, today’s the day that Janson killed my mum.”

Newt didn’t verbally respond, because what was there to say? Instead, he pulled Thomas into a hug, wordlessly offering his support, and held him close for the rest of the night.

  
  


Even once he was officially out of the time loop, Thomas didn’t have any more Revivals.

  
  


He rewrote his book. It was definitely a lot better this time around. The plot was stronger, the characters were more engaging, and the science had significantly less holes in it.

His  _ extremely minor  _ celebrity status as the miracle who survived a 15 year coma also helped him in getting that publishing deal.

But, no matter how he got the opportunity, seeing his novel shoot to the top of the bestseller list was a dream come true.

  
  


It wasn’t until three years after Janson’s arrest that a verdict was reached.

He was found guilty of all charges, and was going to die in prison. Sonya had seen to it personally.

When he heard the news, a weight that Thomas hadn’t realised was there lifted off of his shoulders. He found himself breathing easier than he’d ever done before.

He looked up from the email from Sonya informing them of the result, to see Newt beaming, his eyes sparkling with joy.

He couldn’t resist pulling Newt in for a kiss. Newt didn’t have any objections.

  
  


One weekend in January, everyone travelled back to their hometown. It was a chance to see each other in person, and reminisce. They all stayed in touch with one another, but chances to meet up as a group were few and far between.

On the Saturday evening, they all met up at a bar that Thomas hadn’t paid much attention to before. All things considered, they spent surprisingly little time talking about Janson. Thomas decided that he was okay with this. That man wasn’t going to be able to hurt any of them ever again. Continuing to talk about him would just be giving him more power over them. He vastly preferred that they all just got on with their lives. They had a brief acknowledgement that he was behind bars, and then the conversation moved on to other things.

Such as Sonya and Harriet’s engagement.

Everyone was thrilled.

Brenda launched into a thousand and one questions about what they were planning, and where they wanted it to be, and when, and if they were thinking about having a theme, and so much more that Thomas could barely keep track of.

Newt expressed some slight, not entirely serious, annoyance that he’d had to find out with the rest of the group instead of on his own.

“I’m your brother, and you didn’t think to tell me about this first?”

“If it makes you feel better, we’re telling mum and dad later tonight.”

“That  _ does _ make me feel better, because dad might actually kill you for not telling them straight away.”

Gally made a joke about this being yet another couple married before him and Ben. Ben pointed out that they weren’t technically engaged, and Gally went very quiet. Minho joked that Gally must’ve forgotten that he needed to actually propose, and Gally threatened to throw something at him.

Frypan said that he expected to have a hand in catering, to which Harriet said that she’d thought that was a given.

Teresa mentioned that Deedee would be starting school soon, and that she and Minho were wondering if the schools in the city were any good, or if it would be worth moving back out here.

“We know that Glade and Scorch are good schools, and so’s the secondary school. We don’t have that guarantee about the city.”

“That’s true,” said Newt, “but you’ve got to remember that you have a history here. If you move back out here, then you’ll have to confront it. That’s not to say that you shouldn’t, or even that you  _ should.  _ Just that you should bear that in mind when you’re making your decision.”

Teresa nodded. “We’ll think about it. Thanks Newt.”

As the evening drew to a close, everyone went their separate ways. Some people were headed straight home, some people to a hotel, and some were staying with family for the night. Sonya and Harriet were heading directly back to the Ross family home, so Thomas and Newt decided to take a more scenic route.

The stars were bright and guided their way as they wandered, talking about nothing in particular without a set destination. They knew that they wouldn’t get lost. They knew this town too well for that. This was where they’d grown up. Both of them.

Eventually, they came to a stop.

Their path had led them to the gates of their old school.

Glade Primary was apparently still doing well in athletics competitions, because it still had a banner up proclaiming such. The playground had a couple of balls left out, but otherwise the school was completely deserted.

Thomas stepped up to the gate and curled a hand around one of the bars. Newt stuck to his side.

Thomas took a deep breath. “Newt?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we managed to be heroes?”

Newt let out a soft laugh. “Yes, Tommy,” he said, taking Thomas’ other hand in his own. “Yes, I think we did.”

Thomas smiled softly. “Yeah,” he said. “I think so too.”

He let Newt pull him away from the gate.

“C’mon,” said Newt. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi !! i’m assuming that if you’re reading this it’s bc you’ve read this whole fic (it’s possible you skipped right to the end i don’t know your life) which if you did then. wow. thank you so much, i genuinely love you
> 
> as i said in the opening notes, i’d had this idea for a while, ever since i first watched erased. it struck me how similar the erased character kenya was to newt, and from that thought everything and everyone else fell into place. but at the time i wasn’t very into tmr. then tdc came out earlier this year, i reread the books, i read tfc for the first time, and i finally watched past the first film. i desperately wanted to read smth like this fic, that combines two things i absolutely love, but i knew there was no way that anyone else was gonna write it. so i had to do it myself
> 
> i honestly didn’t expect more than a handful of people to read this, given the premise is kinda out there. and i wouldn’t have minded that !! i would’ve just been happy for this to exist. but so many people have been reading and commenting (or not commenting, i know you’re there and ily) and it’s kinda baffling that you all like my writing? and you’ve all been so lovely and kind, i’m blown away
> 
> this is the longest thing i’ve ever written, and the only multichap thing i’ve ever actually properly completed. remember how way back in chapter 14 i said this was the longest thing i’d ever written?? yeah. idk how it happened or if i’ll be able to do it again haha, but i’ll definitely try. i have many ideas for things that i’d like to read but have concepts that legit nobody else is ever gonna do so i’ll have to do it. there’s still one more oneshot for this series that i’d really love to be done before the new year but no promises, so make sure you’re subscribed to the series if you’re interested in seeing that. and i should be posting the first chapter of a new thing very very soon !!! it’ll be formatted differently to this, with less chapters, but that are longer, instead of lots of short ones. that next fic involves a boarding school, assassins, roommates, and a deadly game, so if that sounds like something you might be interested in then be sure to check it out !!! (bonus points to anyone who can figure out what it’s based off of with that description alone)
> 
> massive shout out to everyone on the tmr discord !!! y’all have genuinely become friends for life and i love talking to you guys every day !!! even when i’m not saying anything, the group just makes me really happy and i really appreciate all of you. i can’t wait to finally meet some of you in january !!!!!
> 
> wow um this got long. uh, this being exactly 100 chapters was an extremely happy accident, i couldn’t have done it if i’d tried, and it almost definitely will not be repeated lmao
> 
> thank you all so so much !!!!!!!! i hope you’ll join me for the next one <33333

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments mean the world to me, even just a smiley face would make my day
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr!!!](http://astralpenguin.tumblr.com/) : D


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